


I Cannot Repair

by IBeOreo



Category: South Park
Genre: Abuse, Addiction, Anorexia, Depression, Fanfiction, M/M, Multi, Rape/Non-con Elements, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-02 01:36:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 19
Words: 75,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5228933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IBeOreo/pseuds/IBeOreo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How was Tweek Tweak still alive? He engaged in every type of self-destructive behavior possible, and yet he was still on this damned planet. He couldn't take his own life - he was too cowardly for that. But he would do all he could to bring himself closer and closer to the end each day... Now that he's faced with his past, he feels even worse. But maybe Craig can help him through it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unsteady

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first story on this site, though it is definitely not my first for fanfiction. I usually post on ff.net, but I decided to branch out and here I am!
> 
> This, of course, is a Creek fic that deals with many mature themes. This fic in particular has graphic descriptions of SELF HARM and SELF DEPRECATING THOUGHTS.
> 
> I promise, these chapters will get happier, but I want this story to deal with pain. Because that's what I write best with. It'll be eventual smut/fluff/sweetness, but right now, just deal with it :)
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> (this is x-posted on FF.net and wattpad)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is it really a surprise that Tweek doesn't sleep?
> 
> *WARNING: This chapter deals with self-harm*

The porcelain basin was rocking back and forth, with muddy water sloshing in counterclockwise waves that created thin streaks of red along the sides until another current washed them away and replaced them with an even bolder line. The blood was sure to leave a stain but at this moment, Tweek couldn't care less.

The teen tightly gripped the sides of the sink, attempting to keep himself upright. Of course, this hardly worked as the poor fixture was already barely holding onto the floor by itself. He could see the broken tiles from where the foundation had shifted over the years, creating small, but dangerous, jagged shards of floor that stuck up and threatened to cut your toes if you didn't see and stepped in the wrong spot.

Sometimes he would press his fingers against them when he was alone in the bathroom, as an attempt to still feel the world around him and make sure that he wasn't truly escaping to the nightmare that was his mind.

_Too deep... Not deep enough... So red..._

His thoughts weren't making sense, but then again, they never did during times like these.

Tweek's eyes had been squeezed shut as he basked in the pain of his arms, feeling the sticky liquid slowly travel along his forearms and off his wrists. It tickled and, in a fucked up way, made him giggle a little at the sensation.

But now, the feeling was gone. And he was just left with an aching that traveled past his skin and bones, crawling up his arms and toward his chest, where it felt like he had taken the knife to instead. His heart twitched, and he let out a harsh breath through gritted teeth.

He opened his eyes, refusing to look at the mirror and instead stared at the damage he had done. His arms looked like a they had been stuck in a garbage disposal; blade marks were spread unevenly throughout his flesh, with chunks of skin raised above others and looking as though they were about to fall off. Some were extremely deep, still bleeding a dark red ooze that looked as though it would never stop. Others looked as though an animal had scratched him, with tiny droplets of blood beginning to clot and dry along the light red lines.

"Tweeky? You in there, sweetie?" A light voice broke through his thoughts.

 _Shit._ Tweek cleared his throat, in hopes of sounding normal.

"Uh, y-yeah mom-m. Just shaving, i-is all." Tweek stuttered, his legs shaking slightly as per his usual twitchiness.

His mother giggled behind the locked door, completely unaware of his true situation. Or maybe she did know, and she didn't give a fuck. Wouldn't have surprised him...

"You know that you don't grow that much hair, silly! Now come on down, I made some dinner." Her drugged up, airy voice trailed off near the end as he heard her walking back down the hallway, not bothering to hear his response. She wouldn't notice if he came down or not, and as far as she knew, he already had and had taken a plateful of the food that wasn't fully cooked.

"I will, don't worry mom." He responded with his usual five words, not meaning a word of it.

Tweek swallowed and slowly raised his eyes from his hands to the mirror, glaring and twitching at what he saw. Tufts of blonde, almost yellow, hair stuck out in random spots that made him look like a mad scientist. His bangs were grown out long enough to cover his forehead, but they still showed his dull, hazel eyes that were too big for his face.

His cheeks were slightly sunken, and the bags under his eyes looked as though they had their own baggage. His narrow chin jutted out, and his nose was too small for the rest of his face. His vampire-pale skin looked dry as hell, with bits of flesh peeling off around his nose and forehead.

Overall, he looked like a disgusting, sickly drug addict.

Which wasn't far from the truth, if he was being honest.

Ignoring the wave of nausea that he felt from just looking at himself, Tweek turned away from the mirror and instead focused his attention on cleaning his wounds. As odd as it seemed, he actually cared if they got infected.

Weird, right? A suicidal, self-harming teen who hated himself beyond belief cared if his body was okay? The fuck?

He only slightly cared, and the major part of the reason was because he didn't need to go to the doctor for any infection and have to explain what had happened. He had already had to do that once, and thankfully his lies weren't seen through. Him being a minor was another issue, as his parents would be informed and he'd be thrown into treatment. Again.

He managed to manipulate his way through those few months, and he learned that his acting skills were impeccable. Maybe he'd work in movies one day, with how quickly he could change his entire demeanor around others.

But he probably wasn't good enough for that anyway.

Looking down, he realized that he had absentmindedly gotten the first aid kid out from the cabinet underneath the sink and was already wiping hydrogen peroxide on the cuts along his arms. Tapping his foot impatiently, he then applied the last of the Neosporin to the smaller wounds, knowing that the ointment wouldn't do much to the deeper ones and there was no point in wasting it on them if he had to go to the store the next day.

Though used to the pain brought on by the medicine, Tweek couldn't help but flinch with each new treatment he applied. Eventually, though, he managed to waste almost ten Kleenexes, six large bandages, and the rest of the anti-bacterial cream on his slashes.

Looking down, the teen couldn't help but smile slightly at how well he had cleaned himself up. Now it just looked like he had fallen down and scrapped himself a few times, requiring a fair amount of band-aids. And considering how clumsy he already was, this was completely believable.

"Tweek?" He heard his father call from downstairs, and the blonde-haired boy quickly put away the evidence. Pulling the sleeves of his olive green sweatshirt down and grabbing the ends with his fists, Tweek made his way out of the bathroom and put a smile on his face, ready to act his way out if needed.

Hopping down the steps, Tweek saw his mother watching some TV show about reality stars in another state and his father was sitting in his arm chair reading the morning paper and drinking what was probably his fifth cup of coffee for the day. "Hey, dad. W-what's going on?" He asked, making his way to the kitchen to grab his own cup of Joe.

"Just making sure that you heard your mom. She worked hard on dinner tonight, so grab a plate, won't you?" His dad said without looking up from his newspaper. Tweek only nodded, glancing slightly at his mother. She sat staring at the screen, her blue eyes blinking every now and then when a commercial appeared. She looked like a mannequin; her lifeless eyes staring straight ahead and her body not moving, as if she was frozen in time.

Tweek turned away and walked over to the stove, where he saw a pan of sauteed greens and wheat noodles, all drenched in a gross-smelling brown liquid, which he assumed was soy sauce. Making a face, Tweek still scooped a spoonful onto one of the plates that his mother had left out. Walking over to the coffee maker, he grabbed a mug and began filling it up with the deliciously bitter substance, not bothering to add any type of sweetener or flavoring.

Once he had everything in order, he made his way back to the living room. He wouldn't eat with his family, as he never did, but he would make sure that they saw that he had gotten some food.

As he was about to head up the stairs, his father stopped him.

"Oh, Tweek?"

"Y-yes, dad?"

"What were you doing up there for so long?" His dad asked, still not looking up from the paper.

A wave of nervousness swept through the teen, as he looked down at his shoes for an excuse. "I-I was u-um, s-shaving?"

His father finally looked up, his brown eyes meeting his son's. "Were you masturbating?"

The blunt question mixed with the intake of air that he was currently taking in made the teen cough in response, his face turning a shade of red. "W-what? No! D-dad, what the f-fuck?!"

His dad chuckled slightly, looking back down at the newspaper. "Relax, Tweek. I was just messing around. Get some sleep, it's late and you have school tomorrow."

The teen rolled his eyes and turned around. He swallowed and made his way up the stairs, ignoring the small laughter that came from his parents.

Once upstairs, Tweek walked into his room and locked the door behind him.

 _Now they'll really think you're masturbating, dude._ He thought to himself, before shaking his head in embarrassment.

Breaking his thoughts, a small ping from his computer caught his attention.

**PrincessKenny started a chat with you!**

Tweek smiled at his friend's childish name, remembering the times of when he had more of them. A small sadness built in his stomach, but he sat down nonetheless, swiveling his chair over to his desktop to respond.

 **PrincessKenny:** hey, sexy. miss me? ;)

Tweek rolled his eyes, but began typing.

 **CoffeeMakesMeTwitch:** Shut up, dude. Ready for tomorrow?

 **PrincessKenny:** i'm never ready. especially since we have the test in physics. totally failing xD

 **CoffeeMakesMeTwitch:** Shit! I completely forgot! D:

 **PrincessKenny:** fail buddies! high-five!

 **CoffeeMakesMeTwitch:** I can't fail... My parents will kill me :/

 **PrincessKenny:** you mean you'll kill yourself? they don't care what you make lol. only you do

 **CoffeeMakesMeTwitch:** And THAT'S why I'm getting into a good college and you're not ;)

 **PrincessKenny:** bitch, you think i care? as long as i have my Tweekers, i'm perfectly happy  <3

Tweek blushed slightly at the response, but he knew that Kenny was only joking. He was such a flirt, but he always had a way of making him feel better.

 **CoffeeMakesMeTwitch:** Promise you'll at least TRY to study?

 **PrincessKenny:** gaaaahh... just for you ;)

 **PrincessKenny:** after the party that is

 **CoffeeMakesMeTwitch:** Party? On a Sunday? Only you...

 **PrincessKenny:** my parents are gone, and i think that everyone needs to loosen up for the exam. i'm just keeping my peers sane

 **CoffeeMakesMeTwitch:** You saint

 **PrincessKenny:** what can i say? i'm a people pleaser.

Tweek rolled his eyes, but smiled. Before he could send his response, Kenny sent a message that made his stomach sink.

 **PrincessKenny:** you gonna be there? you never go to parties and i'd like to see you drunk once

There was a reason Tweek never went to parties, or games, or any social event for that matter. He couldn't socialize for shit. He was surprised that he had three friends, and even sometimes he thought that they were only there because they felt bad for him.

Besides, nobody would want him there, and they probably wouldn't even notice him in the first place. He sat in the back at school and alone during lunch (Kenny, Butters, and Jimmy all had B lunch while he was stuck in C). No one bothered to make any interaction with him, and his teachers barely acknowledged him during class. (Except Mr. Fredberg, of course.)

 **PrincessKenny:** i'm taking that as a no. it's fine this time, but i'll get you to go one day

 **CoffeeMakesMeTwitch:** Sorry, Kenny... I just don't think partying is my kind of thing :/

 **PrincessKenny:** i know, i know. coffee is your thing. and me, right?

 **CoffeeMakesMeTwitch:** Of course :)

 **PrincessKenny:** the first guest has arrived! time to go!  <3

**PrincessKenny has signed off.**

Tweek was alone, again. At least he got to talk to his best friend for a little bit.

Looking at the clock, he realized that it was only 10:07 pm. _Only 8 more hours until I have to get up for school..._ He thought, contemplating what he was going to do for so long.

Sleep was out of the question, as it always was; his insomnia had gotten worse this past month from the stress of midterms, projects, and keeping up with the coffee shop. His parents were going on vacation in a week or so, and he would have to manage the whole place by himself, along with taking care of the house.

Why they let their anxiety filled, spazzy child take care of their business was beyond him, but he was thankful for the alone time it left him.

Instead, Tweek made his way toward his bed, throwing his body back-up on his mattress and burying his head in his pillow. The jump made the bed squeak, and he heard his dad call out some sexual innuendo from downstairs.

Reaching underneath his pillow, Tweek felt for his journal and pencil. The poor things were completely worn out from years of hardwork, but they still had a little bit left to offer for the teen.

Grabbing headphones from his side table and stuffing them inside of his ears, he clicked play on his phone and let whatever song wanted to come on consume his thoughts. His hands began sketching what they desired, and he let himself be taken away from the word and his mind.

Though the doodles started innocently, they eventually became dark, distorted figures and shadows that showed a little too much insight into his daily thinking. Grimacing, Tweek looked up at the clock and saw that barely two hours had passed.

The teen took a deep breath and contemplated going for a walk, though he knew that the cold, October air was probably not good for a twig like himself. Ignoring the logical side of things as always, Tweek opened his window and carefully stepped out onto the tree branch that hung itself beside his bedroom.

Once securely on the limb, he scooted closer to the center of the plant and began making his way down. A movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention, however, and a sinking feeling overcame him.

_What if it's a robber and they sneak up into my room and steal everything? What if they're a stalker and they want to follow me and rape me? What if it's a crazy axe-murderer that thinks I'm his next target?_

Insane thoughts beat through his mind, and he slowly turned his head toward the movement. Thankfully, he saw that it was just someone standing outside of their window, making shadows from the light in their room.

Wait a second... _Outside the window?_

_Is it a fucking ghost?!_

Tweek sighed in relief when he saw who it was.

Craig Tucker. Standing, yes, _outside_ of his house on the windowsill, making his way up onto his roof. Tweek felt a wave of nervousness as he watched the athlete climb onto the top of his house, not wanting to be witness to the death of a classmate.

Luckily enough, the raven-haired boy managed to make it up with ease and sat cross-legged on the roof, staring up at the stars above him. Looking over for a second, his eyes caught Tweek's, and the blonde made a small squeak of embarrassment for having watched the older teen.

"Nngh!"

He felt Craig's eyes on him the entire way down the tree, and over the fence of his backyard. Once a few houses down, Tweek finally was able to get over the feeling of being watched (at least by Craig Tucker - who knew who else was staring at him from the shadows?).

Beginning his normal route, Tweek began thinking of what the other boy had done, and how he had escaped the confinements of the inside to be able to think alone.

_He was probably sneaking out to fuck some girl, and thought you were a faggot for watching him like that._

Tweek thought, frowning slightly. He knew that that was the real reason Craig had been out there, but he couldn't help but feel slightly happy knowing that someone else may be doing what he was doing as well.

Either way, it didn't matter because they weren't friends and never would be.

Tuning his thoughts away from anyone other than himself, Tweek continued walking, knowing he'd be gone until sunrise and would only have a little bit of time until school started.

He'd be exhausted, but when wasn't he?

Sighing, the blonde walked along the dirt path he was used to, with thoughts of the upcoming school day, tests, Kenny, and, sadly, that raven-haired boy that lived beside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed :)


	2. Outcast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will school ever be easy for Tweek?

"I shouldn't h-have gone w-walking last ni-ight." Tweek muttered, drying his hair with a towel. Even after a half hour long shower in the warm water, he was still shivering from cold. "Please don't let m-me be sick..."

Looking down underneath the sink, he saw the tiles sticking up as usual. He bit his lip as he pressed his foot against the corner of one, punishing himself for being stupid enough to get a cold the way that he did. The pain pierced the pad of his foot, and he winced, but continued pushing, hoping to cause a small prick of blood.

A large rumble jerked him out of his daze and he pulled his foot away quickly, scared of getting caught harming himself.

The noise had been his mother in the kitchen, cleaning or cooking or whatever. The sound of banging pots and pans could be heard downstairs, and a sweet smell of coffee was slowly drifting into his nostrils. A fresh pot of the stuff must have just been made, and he suspected it wouldn't last long in this house.

His stomach began to growl and he remembered the plate of stir fry from last night. It was probably cold and mushy, sitting on his desk and would soon be smelling up his room. Cursing, Tweek made his way toward the table, grabbing the plate and scooping the crap out of his window. _The neighbor's dog will eat it. That skinny bastard needs some food anyway._

 _I don't want to go to school._ Tweek thought, attempting to dress as slowly as he could. He felt like he wore the same outfit everyday, but the colors made him blend into the background and new ones would cost too much money. After shrugging on his same green sweatshirt, he pulled up his brown jeans and slipped on his ratty shoes, knowing that he probably looked as poor as Kenny.

_At least I look presentable... Somewhat._

After walking down the steps, Tweek grabbed his trusty thermos that still sat on the coffee table. His mother knew better than to touch anyone's coffee cups, not after what happened with his father...

He gave a small shiver and pushed the thought out of his head.

His father was already at the shop it seemed, and his mom was too busy with bustling around the kitchen. From the way she was humming and her stance, it was obvious that she had already taken her medication, so she was hardly there herself. It was better than the alternative, at least.

Not bothering to say hi or even acknowledge her presence, Tweek walked around his mom and her seemingly burnt pancakes and grabbed an apple from the bowl of fruit on the counter, making sure that his parents saw he was eating breakfast. His OCD mother would notice that there weren't exactly 4 Gala apples in the bowl, and know that her son was the one that "stole" one, as she would put it. He then filled up his thermos with the fresh coffee, sealing the lid without adding anything to it - black was his favorite, even in the morning.

Once outside, the thin boy was greeted with an incredibly cold breeze, making the weather feel more like winter than fall. "F-fuck." He muttered, lowering his head slightly as an attempt to get warm. It didn't work.

He probably shouldn't have been walking to school, but he never took the bus; too many people, germs, and the possibility of crashing or catching fire or even expelling radioactive gas from the vents was enough for him to say "no thanks." Besides, walking gave him time to himself, and the chance to think clearly without any other interruptions.

Of course, he probably shouldn't be left alone with his thoughts for too long.

Sighing and shivering still, Tweek reached behind him and unzipped his backpack, reaching in and grabbing a pack of cigarettes. Putting one in his mouth, the teen pulled out the lighter that he kept in his back pocket, smiling at what Butters had bought him a few months ago for his birthday. (He told Butters that he collected them; he would never approve of him smoking. Only Kenny knew, actually.)

The lighter had a cute drawing of a cartoon stick of butter, a burnt piece of toast, strawberry jam, and a cup of steaming coffee. That was Butters way of incorporating the four of them into one picture. He smiled at the thought, and leaned down to light the stick in his mouth.

Taking a huge inhale of tobacco, he let it fill his lungs and travel to his chest, soaking up as much smoke as he could. Once he couldn't hold it anymore, he let out a few puffs through his nose, tickling his nostrils and making him cough slightly. He felt slightly lightheaded, and he took a bite of his apple, praying that he wouldn't pass out while walking to school.

It took few minutes to walk there, and he was practically done with his cigarette by the time he arrived outside the school. About to put the stick out, he noticed that Craig and his group of friends were leaning against the front wall, smoking and talking loudly, laughing amongst themselves. They didn't care if anyone saw them, and they knew that the teachers would only give them a 'warning'; the athletes never got in trouble at South Park High. They were too valuable and made the school look ten times better than what it actually was.

Clyde, Token and some kid named Kevin Stoley were surrounding each other, jumping and hooting as they attempted to burn each other with the ends of their cigarettes. Craig, however, wasn't involved in their shenanigans; he was actually looking away from them. And staring right at Tweek. They made eye contact, and the sudden interaction caused Tweek jumped back, knocking his cigarette slightly and making ash fall onto his hand. Wincing and making a small squeak, Tweek's face turned a small shade of red and a few people turned to look his way.

Craig, showing no concern, narrowed his eyes. Was he... Glaring at him?

That's what it looked like.

 _Shit_ , Tweek thought, _I'm smoking in **his** zone_. The boy looked away and nervously snuffed out his cigarette on the snowy ground, before picking it up and throwing it away. (What if a teacher picked it up and ran DNA on it and saw that it was Tweek's and he got expelled? His parents would be SO mad, and he'd never be able to get into a good school and.. and...)

Tweek made his way up the steps, making sure not to look back. He approached his locker, thinking to himself how ridiculous it was that they only had half ones. The longer ones would be easier to put all his stuff in, and now his locker was a jumbled mess, no matter how hard he tried to clean it...

The bell rang and people shuffled around him, pushing past as if he wasn't there at all. _5..2..5..8... Kenny, Butters, Jimmy, and Tweek..._ His combination was made by Butters, who wanted to, again, incorporate all of this group and decided that it would be appropriate to "use numbers to represent letters, like on phones!". He was sweet and gushy that way, and it often annoyed the others, but if they didn't have the teen, they'd all be more cynical and isolated.

"Hey, babe!" A pair of arms reached around his shoulders and reached into his locker, grabbing his English book for him. Tweek jumped and fell backwards, hitting his back against someone's chest. A familiar figure just wrapped his arms around Tweek's stomach, letting out a laugh.

Tweek turned around, glaring. "Kenny! You s-scared me!"

"Everything scares you, dude." Kenny handed him his book, smiling slyly.

"Nngh! Thank you..." He looked around to make sure no one saw them, but nobody paid attention to him anyway.

Kenny reached up to ruffle the boy's already unkempt hair, asking, "You ready for that physics test next period?"

That brought him back to reality. Tweek gasped, his eyes going wide. "SHIT!"

The ones still left in the hall whipped around, giving him weird looks. Scrunching down slightly, Tweek whispered, "I-I completely forgot! I'm gonna faaaaail!" His eyes began to blur, threatening to fill with tears. He was always such an easy crier.

Kenny frowned. "Tweekers, you know that you're top in that class, right? There is literally no way that you can fail." Tweek twisted his mouth in doubt. "I swear; scout's honor."

Tweek narrowed his eyes. "You weren't in boy scouts."

Kenny smiled, turning around to walk to his class and calling back, "You know me too well! You're late, by the way!"

Right on cue, the tardy bell rang. Tweek, squeaking in surprise, quickly ran toward his class. As always, the element of convenience was never on his side. English had to be upstairs and on the _opposite_ end of the school. He never realized how large the fucking school was until he was frantically running the length of it. He was nearly four minutes late when he walked into the classroom, causing the entire class to turn and watch him enter.

"Nice of you to join us, Mr. Tweak." His teacher said, clearly annoyed. _Can't you at least pretend like you like me?_ Tweek thought, biting his lip.

"S-Sorry..." Tweek mumbled, walking to his desk.

"Damn. And I thought we'd be lucky enough to have at least one class without Tweek the Freak." Cartman said, smirking. His group of friends laughed obnoxiously, purposefully trying to be as loud as they could do make Tweek blush, and the other students snickered quietly at their "silliness" as the teacher would put it. Tweek, of course, would call it bullying, but no teacher - especially Mr. Lang - would take him seriously.

"Eric, shut up. No one needs your smart mouth. One more remark and you're off to the principal." Mr. Lang muttered, going back to his lecture about some type of logical fallacy or politics or whatever. Nothing of what he said in class was ever on a test, so Tweek learned that listening was essentially pointless.

Tweek sat down, trying to ignore Cartman and his group as they continued to snicker behind him. He managed to tune them out within 10 minutes, but even in that little of time it was enough to make him hate himself even more. And Cartman.

His teacher's voice was monotone, and the buzzing of the lights ahead was more lively than him. He drew on the chalkboard not because he needed to, but because he wanted to and loved the way his handwriting looked. Part of Tweek was convinced that it was because Mr. Lang _knew_ that he hated the sound of chalk being pressed against the enamel. _I hate this._ Tweek thought, his eyes feeling heavy and his ears sore. He never understood why he had to take a course if he was fluent in the language - though his stuttering would sometimes prove differently. He couldn't remember what a gerund was or when to call something independent or dependent and why there was always something to call a sentence. English was never his favorite subject, but that might be in part Cartman's fault (he had _always_ managed to have the same English course as him, as if it was his job to make sure he suffered through his worst subject.)

He must have fallen asleep, or been close enough to it to not have noticed the pair of hands approaching his sides. Cartman pressed forward, jabbing either of Tweek's sides forcefully. The poor teen let out a yelp and almost fell out of his chair in surprise.

"Did you take your medication today, Tweekers? We don't want you to have an episode." Cartman said sweetly.

"Can we please just have _one_ lecture without someone screaming?" The professor asked, walking to his desk to put his head down. They never seemed to finish a lesson without something interrupting - whether that be from him, or some school assembly, or more commonly something Cartman and his friend's were doing that would ultimately involve the entire town of South Park.

With that, the bell rang, signaling the end of first period.

_I'm so not ready for the test..._

There was no way he could have been late to the class given the fact that it was right in front of his previous. That didn't stop him from trying, however. Begrudgingly, he walked in and sat in his seat, pulling out his notes and trying to absorb as much information as he could. Sadly, the passing period ended faster than he expected, and his professor walked in with the tests.

"Alright guys! Time to put away your notes and take out your _pencils_ , Tyler. We don't want a repeat of last time. Who's excited for the exam?" Mr. Fredberg asked, enthusiastically and with a hint of sadism in his voice. Everyone groaned.

The door burst open, revealing a tall blonde in an orange hoodie and torn jeans. Kenny was late every day.

"Ah, Kenneth. Happy to see you haven't decided to drop out yet." Mr. Fredberg said.

Kenny smiled sweetly and pulled out a candy bar, handing it to the teacher. That was their little deal; he could be late, but only if he supplied Mr. Fredberg with his daily dose of chocolate. Not ethical in the slightest, but high school never truly was. "I'd miss you too much, Mr. Freddy."

The teacher rolled his eyes, but he couldn't hide the smile on his face. "Alright, alright. Sit down and shut up. Time for the test. Everything _away_!"

Kenny walked toward Tweek, sitting down and giving him a smile. As the tests arrived at their desks, he looked over and mouthed, "You'll pass", trying to reassure the nervous wreck. Tweek, instead of feeling better, felt his stomach drop, scared to look at the questions.

The first few were fine, and then he came to number eight.

 

_If you have two charges, and you double one charge and triple the other, and move them twice as far apart, what happens to... Wait what? If you have **two** charges, and you **double one** charge and **triple the other** , and move them **twice as far apart**... I don't even know... Did we study this? Shit shit shit shit..._

His bottom lip began to quiver.

He was sure everyone could hear his ragged breathing and his desk beginning to shake. They could probably also hear his thoughts and were laughing at his nervousness... Every time a person flipped a page, he twitched, sinking further into his seat. One person turned in their exam. Then another. And another.

Tweek bit his lip hard enough to taste blood and felt himself getting light-headed. Suddenly, a hand was on his thigh and it gave a gentle squeeze. Looking to his left, he saw Kenny smiling. "Everything is fine, Tweek." He whispered, giving his leg a pat and looking back down at his own test.

Tweek nodded and decided to skip that problem. The next one he knew. And the one after that. Now he was on page two already and he felt his body starting to relax. By the time he finished the other problems, he remembered exactly how to do number eight.

Standing up, he turned in his exam, feeling slightly better but still not confident about his grade.

He made his way back to his seat, looking around the room and noticing that he was the fifth person to finish. He was usually the first, but would turn it in second because he didn't want the pressure of everyone looking at him. He didn't want to seem like a smartass, or teacher's pet.

A small wave of disappointment overcame him and he lowered his head, digging his nails into his cut up arm softly. _Dumbass..._ He thought to himself.

He was startled by the bell, quickly pulling his hand away and looking up. He must have been daydreaming because, now, everyone had already finished. Everyone except Kenny.

Tweek, worried, started to reassure his friend, saying that it would be fine. Kenny, however, wasn't having it. "Tweekers, I don't need straight A's for me to be able to breathe. That's only you." He then stood up, turning in his test and walking to his next class, not showing any emotion though Tweek knew he was slightly upset. Sighing, Tweek stood.

As he began to walk out of the room, Mr. Fredberg stopped him. "Tweek."

He spun around, nervous. "Nngh! Y-Yes M-m-mr-"

"Calm down, Tweek. You're not in trouble. I just wanted to know what was up. You look more nervous than usual, if that's even possible. You looked like you didn't even want to turn your test in. You okay?"

Tweek nodded softly, thankful that the adult had taken the time to notice, but upset with himself for causing someone to worry. The next question took him off guard, however.

"Have you been eating and sleeping enough?"

No one really cared enough to ask him that, and there was no way he'd actually tell how he was. So lying was his only option - as it normally was. Hesitating for just a second, Tweek smiled and nodded. "Y-Yup."

His teacher narrowed his eyes and searched the teen's face, but Tweek made sure he came up empty. Instead, he just sighed and put his hand on Tweek's shoulder, squeezing lightly. _Why is everyone squeezing me today..._

"You're a terrible liar, kid. You gotta keep yourself together. You have a lot of people that worry about you." _Ha ha, I really don't._ "Me included." _Oh..._  "Go on to your next class."

Tweek smiled and turned around, surprised and slightly happy that his teacher seemed to care about him. Before he could get out of the door, however, Mr. Fredberg stopped him again.

"Oh, and Tweek? I looked at the first page and a half on your exam. You haven't gotten a single one wrong yet."

Tweek, stifling a grin, headed toward his next class: psychology.

Once in, he took a seat nearest the back and began doodling, waiting for class to start. He sat near the window, and would usually stare out when he couldn't pay attention or felt himself slipping away. Today was a dreary day, with the sky a light gray and wind blowing the dying leaves off the trees. It looked like it would rain, but it always did in this town. There was no way the weather would deem him lucky enough for that. He sighed and looked around, taking in the people surrounding him. His peers talked amongst themselves, not acknowledging him, but also not talking about him. It was like he wasn't there. And he was fine with that.

If he wasn't there, then it meant he wouldn't have to be shunned for saying something odd, or being thrown annoyed looks as he stuttered his way through words.

His teacher walked in, saying that they would be assigned a group to work on a psychological study, all week long. She usually did this when she stayed up late on the weekend and forgot to make a lesson plan. Today, it seemed, she was on a marathon of some reality TV show and didn't want to deal with actual reality itself. It was fine; her projects were always fun. "You'll each be given two partners, so get ready to mingle." Mrs. Taylor smiled, clapping her hands and reading off the list of groups.

Tweek stopped breathing, looking around the room in a panic. She never assigned partners. He didn't like change, and he _really_ didn't like the idea of working with another person. _Partners?! I don't like anyone here, I can't be partn-_

"Bebe, you'll be with Tweek and Craig."

_Fucking Bebe and Craig?! Kill me now..._

Bebe gave a little squeal of happiness and immediately moved toward Craig's desk, clearly excited to be working with the kid. As she began spouting off some random gossip, Tweek slowly made his way toward them, dreading the week already. The two hardly noticed him arrive, and he sank down in his seat, pulling his legs up and sitting Indian style in the chair. It was a position that made him taller and allowed him to see his peers more clearly, and it also helped him stay awake and alert in class. He definitely needed to feel in control right now.

"You know, since we're in a group together, I'll need your number." Bebe said, not hiding her desperateness. She tossed her curly, dirty-blonde hair behind her shoulder and leaned forward, pushing out her cleavage and leaning her head against the palm of her hand. Tweek rolled his eyes and felt a wave of annoyance. _Do you seriously think that he'd be interested in you? You're a slut..._ His thoughts took him off guard, as he usually didn't care about what others around him did. But when it came to Craig, Token, and Clyde, things were different. The memory made him scoot his chair back slightly and look away.

Craig just gave a small huff and rattled off a few digits, not bothering to look up from his phone. His disinterest was one of the things that the girls at their school _loved_ about him, and Tweek just couldn't understand it. Craig wasn't always this way, and it wasn't until middle school that he became so seemingly distant from the world around him. Tweek assumed that he had read some tip book or something, and decided to turn mysterious in order to gain popularity.

 _Never as mysterious as Mysterion!_ Tweek thought, smiling to himself. He felt a pair of eyes heavy on his body, and he glanced up to see the black-haired boy was staring at him. His blue eyes were cloudy, and Tweek couldn't tell if he was annoyed, intrigued, or apathetic. His messy hair covered his forehead and the tops of his eyes, helping with the whole "mysterious" vibe that he radiated. His blue jacket was uneven, with one side nearly falling off his shoulder and the other almost covering the band logo on his shirt.

Craig's stare got more intense and Tweek realized that they had been looking at each other for too long. Though it was probably only a few seconds, the interaction was enough to drain the blonde and cause his mouth to feel dry. He was first to break eye contact, and instead looked toward Bebe, hoping that Craig would look eventually.

"D-do you need m-mine, Bebe?" Tweek asked shyly, cutting her off mid sentence. She looked at him with confusion, her mouth opened slightly and her chewed gum visible on her tongue. An unattractive pose, but Tweek knew not to stare too long at her. As he was about to pull out his phone, she seemed to realize what he meant. He was greeted with a blank stare and a roll of eyes. _Fuck you too, then..._ He thought, though he felt rejected to say the least.

She turned back around to face Craig, ignoring Tweek completely and making him feel worse about himself. Tweek frowned and looked down at his lap, passing his phone back and forth between his hands. He just wanted class to be over, and the time on his phone told him that they would be in there for 42 more minutes. _Let there be an earthquake, or a random assembly, or a power outage... Anything so I don't have to-_

Craig reached over the table and grabbed his phone, scaring the hell out of the blonde and bringing him back to reality. "H-hey give it b-back!"

"Dude, relax. I'm just adding my number." Craig began typing on the screen, ignoring Bebe's annoyed look. He then looked at his own phone to add her number, and smiled sweetly at her as he handed Tweek's phone back. Tweek didn't want to let him know that he hadn't deleted Craig's number all these years, so he nodded at the other boy.

"T-thank you..." Tweek muttered, blushing slightly and reaching to take it back. Their hands brushed and Tweek jerked back, looking down at his phone in embarrassment. He felt Craig's eyes heavy on him again, and he hoped that he didn't think he was gay or anything. Immediately, he looked down.

 _I mean, I_ am. _But that doesn't mean he should know that..._

A small buzz sounded in his hands, revealing a text message from Craig himself.

_Look. Now we have a group chat. Fucking great._

Tweek bit his lip to hold back a smile, knowing that Bebe wouldn't be too thrilled to have Tweek in the same messages as her. The blonde looked up at the two and noticed completely different reactions. Craig, as usual, leaned back in his chair with a smirk plastered on his face as he stared at Bebe. Her eyes were narrowed, filled with a mixture of annoyance and excitement, probably happy to at least be texting the most popular guy in school. She'd more than likely delete his number in a couple of minutes, or or block him to only receive messages from Craig. Tweek didn't figure they'd be talking much through text anyway, though.

Bebe rolled her eyes at the exchange and Mrs. Taylor _finally_ arrived at their desk, explaining their assigned experiment. "Alright, guys, you get the good one. The topic of personality and musical preferences!" The three students looked at her blankly, never knowing what to expect from their teacher. "You'll each fill out this personality forum, and then what types of music you listen to." _So far, so good... Why do we need partners?_ "You'll trade music selections and write your thoughts on the other's tastes. Then each write a summary and your views and reasoning behind what you got. Cool?" _Oh... Great, here come the emo jokes..._

Bebe groaned right on cue, pointing toward the blonde.

"But, Mrs. Taylor! Tweek probably listens to that depressing _emo_ crap! I don't want to start cutting and thinking of suicide because of him and his kind."

Tweek subconsciously touched his arms, wondering if she truly knew about him. He knew that she didn't, and that she wouldn't care if he did, but he'd still like to keep it his own little secret for now. He again felt Craig's eyes on him, but when he turned to look at the boy, he was looking at the desk, as if deep in thought. _I'm fucking going insane..._ Did _I take my pill last night? I feel like I'm being stared at all the time..._

"Bebe! That is _not_ a joking matter!" Mrs. Taylor gasped, the side of her mouth twitching. She looked like she wanted to say something else, but pulled herself together. "You will do what I have assigned or you will fail this project. And that won't look good to your cheerleading coach, will it?"

Bebe huffed and crossed her arms as Mrs. Taylor smiled and walked away, leaving the personality tests on the table. The air hung with tension and his "partners" were busy playing on their phones, showing little to no interest in their assignment.

No one moved, so Tweek began handing them out, for once taking the initiative.

The three of them began writing on the forums, answering standard questions that would ultimately label them as a certain type of person. It was a standard Myers Briggs, and Tweek already knew what type he was, but he filled it out anyway, looking for an excuse to not speak. He hated the questions involved because he didn't like to be remined of the way that his brain worked. He didn't like to be labeled as an introvert or told that his type was "rare".

"INFJ's make up less than one percent of the population, Tweek. You're an extremely private, sensitive boy with a huge heart and compassion for others. You're not worthless, you see? Your type is what helps others keep going." His counselor had told him, but he brushed it off. Counselors were supposed to help you feel better, but that had actually made him feel worse. He already felt isolated as it was, and now he learned that there were even fewer people like him than he thought.

Besides, he knew that these tests didn't hold any scientific meaning. It was just a way of making others feel connected to one another, and he wasn't going to buy it. Any excuse to keep his mind to himself, his thoughts private, and his personality a secret. Even if he  _did_ meet another INFJ, or a personality type that supposedly "went well" with his own, they wouldn't give him a chance. He was too extremely introverted, too much to handle. His own best friends couldn't even really understand him, not even Kenny.

He finished first, and glanced over at Craig's paper to see what types of music the boy actually listened to. He didn't know why he cared about the other boy, or what his preferences were. They would never trade CDs, or share headphones, or plan a jam session together. They would never sit down and have long, intellectual conversations about lyrics and what they thought of them, or how they felt connected to certain songs. Craig wouldn't have the same emotional connection to the same things that Tweek did, and he would probably think of him as weird if Tweek even tried to have a conversation with him about any of that.

They would talk only for this week, and then they would go back to ignoring each other like they had for years. Nevertheless, he let out a small gasp as he noticed that more than half were of his own tastes.

Craig, looking up, asked blankly, "Are you seriously trying to cheat off me?" The corner of his mouth twitched slightly, and Tweek couldn't tell if he was joking or annoyed.

Tweek stared at him confused. "Y-you can't cheat on this t-type of test, C-Craig..."

Craig blinked, and a few seconds passed. Tweek began to twitch uncomfortably, scared that he had already fucked this up beyond repair. As he opened his mouth to apologize, Craig muttered an annoyed, "Dude, it was a joke" and Bebe gave a small chuckle, making Tweek blush slightly.

Craig just rolled his eyes and gave a small glare before going back to his test.

Tweek felt his stomach sink slightly and he knew that this week was going to be one of the longest of his life...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading :)
> 
> Please review and comment!  
> <3


	3. Cold Coffee and Sad Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He never knew he would be telling Kenny this...

He had been at the shop for only an hour, when Kenny burst through the door.

“Thought you could escape me, Tweek?” The teen smirked, making his way past the customers waiting in line and sliding behind the counter. The frazzled blonde barely acknowledged him as he paced to different coffee machines and handed out orders. There were only around four people in line, but anything more than two was enough to freak the poor teen out. Sighing, Kenny pushed him to the side and took over the cash register, allowing Tweek to get a moment’s rest before retrieving extra coffee cups from the back.

“W-where were you after s-school, Kenny?” Tweek asked as he began stacking cups and making a customer’s hazelnut mocha. "Two shots of hazelnut, please." The customer commented, arms crossing as she looked at her watch. Tweek nodded and made sure to pump the disgusting syrup into the already tainted cup of coffee.

“I was hanging out with Stan, Kyle, and Cartman.” Tweek winced at Cartman’s name, but he knew that Kenny still considered him a close friend. They had been together since kindergarten, and they looked as though they'd stick together for all eternity, much to Tweek's dismay. “They were talking about hanging out at the mall, and then playing games at Stan’s house. Then I remembered that Monday’s I’m here with you.”

Tweek paused for a moment, frowning slightly. _I made him stay… I’m so-_

Kenny, always so observant, cut him off before he could begin. “You’re not selfish, Tweek. I _wanted_ to come here. This is _our_ time, and I can hang out with them any other day.” Kenny turned around to face him, smiling softly. Tweek only nodded and continued working, allowing his thoughts to take over once more.

Kenny sighed again, but took a few more orders. The two worked in a comfortable silence, only speaking to talk to a customer or list prices. Tweek was happy that he had his friend in the shop with him, remembering the days of when he had to work alone. He was always overwhelmed and usually upset at least one person, making him feel terrible about himself. He didn't know why his father would just up and leave once Tweek walked in, without so much of a "hey" or "how was school?", but he was used to it after so many years. In a way, the neglect had made him more independent, and he didn't need people as much. Though he craved comfort, of course.

After each drink was handed out and there were only around five people left in the shop, all sitting around tables and distracted on their phones, the older teen turned around and leaned against the porcelain counter. His ratty old jeans were surely to leave a few marks on the clean surface, but Tweek was willing to let it slide by with him.

“Did you pass the exam?” He asked, sipping on the drink that Tweek had slipped him a few minutes ago.

“Exam? O-oh, yeah. I t-think I p-passed. Mr. Fredberg s-said so at l-least.”

“Freddy fucking loves you, dude. You never have anything to worry about. What’s really bothering you?” Kenny said, staring the boy straight in the eyes. His aquamarine eyes were demanding and the pupils were slightly larger than normal, causing Tweek to shiver internally. His face was somehow clear, regardless of what he ate and how he lived. The almost perfection and symmetry of his appearance always shocked Tweek, and he could hardly ever find himself saying "no" to his friend.

“Craig.”

“Wait… What?” Kenny asked, clearly confused. That was _definitely_ not what he thought the other boy was going to say, and Tweek was happy to have at least surprised him.

“In psychology… C-Craig is one of my p-partners. And Bebe. For a w-week.” Tweek sighed, leaning against the opposite counter of Kenny and sliding down. He let his knees fold up and put his head into his hands, trying to hide his blushing face. He didn't know why his cheeks were warm, or why he felt so embarrassed, but he definitely wanted nothing more than to lie in bed and drown himself in cups of coffee.

“Like, Craig motherfucking Tucker?” Tweek nodded. “And Bitch-Bitch Stevens?” Tweek nodded again, sliding down slightly further. “Jesus, dude. I’m sorry. Want me to ditch theatre and stay in the class with you?” Kenny suggested, though they both knew that that wasn’t an actual option. At least he tried.

Tweek only shook his head, biting his lip and letting out a huff of air through his nose, as he usually did when he was out of options. “W-we have to t-talk about music and Bebe s-said that m-my music is emo and d-depressing a-a-a-and…” Tweek’s voice broke off as his bottom lip began to quiver. He didn't care about the cheerleader, but it was still upsetting to be reminded of his past bullying in middle school.

Kenny immediately pushed off of his counter and sat down next to Tweek, wrapping his arm around the smaller boy’s shoulders. Kenny had no problem with being called names, and even embraced some that people gave him. He had managed to convince everyone that he was gay, and purposefully flirted with other guys to make them uncomfortable, until he got a girlfriend his sophomore year. Kenny had a way of going with the flow, and that made his character so loved by everyone at school. Tweek wished that he could be like that... “Hey, hush now. We both know Bebe’s a shitty person, and everything she says is to make herself feel better.” Tweek nodded at his friend's words, leaning into Kenny’s side.

“Aaaaand, who cares if your music is depressing? That’s what makes you Tweek. Her music destroys brain cells and gives people cancer. At least the bands that you listen to have actual words to say. Not something about sex and broken hearts. Besides, I listen to the same music as you, so you can tell her to suck my dick. If she has a problem with you, then she has a problem with me and I can just tell Stan to talk to Wendy about it. That girl will _definitely_ put an end to it.” The older boy grinned evilly, poking the younger’s side until he finally broke into a smile.

Tweek looked Kenny in the eyes and said, “But w-what about Craig?” _Why do you care so much about him?_ He asked himself.

Kenny rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Craig acts all badass, but I’ve hung out with him a few times. He’s all talk. Remember how you were friends with him and his group?" Tweek nodded. "He’s basically the same, except taller.”

Tweek remembered. He used to hang out with Craig and Clyde and Token and Stan and Kyle and, hell, even Cartman. But in middle school, everyone began separating into their own cliques and joining different activities. Tweek was kind of… Left behind. He had a hard time believing that Craig was the same as when they were friends. He seemed completely different, in fact.

Tweek tried to think of why they had separated. He had been too nervous to join any sports, had too much anxiety to join groups or certain classes, and he never had any free time while dealing with his family. Everyone else was busy, and he let them be. He didn't want to be overwhelmed by so many responsibilities. Instead, he was overwhelmed with the alienation. The loneliness had contributed to his breakdown a few years ago, though no one at school knew. They just thought he was on vacation in a different state with his family. Not like they cared…

“Tweekers.” Kenny said, snapping him out of his memories.

The spaz jumped and looked up, embarrassed at having tuned him out. Kenny only smiled and said, “Come on, dude. Let’s get back to work.”

Tweek nodded and Kenny stood up first, reaching down to helping him up. As Tweek extended his arm, his sleeves rolled down slightly, exposing his pale limbs. And his cuts. The teen gave a small gasp and immediately looked up at his wrist. He always made sure to cut higher up, but last night had been different. He had been overwhelmed and wasn't thinking and now he completely regretted it.

Kenny looked down, following Tweek's gaze. Immediately, he let go in shock, stepping back. Tweek fell back down on his butt, almost hitting his head against the counter. He quickly scrambled up and pulled his sleeves down past his hands, praying that Kenny didn’t see the worst of it. His reaction was what made Kenny nervous, and the younger teen licked his lips, looking everywhere but at Kenny's face.

“What the _fuck_ was that?!” He practically screamed, causing the customers that were sitting around the shop’s tables to turn and stare at them. A woman made eye contact with Tweek and he blushed, looking away and stepping closer to Kenny.

“K-Kenny, please. Not so l-loud.” Tweek laughed nervously, though his lips were pulled into a frown. “Everything is fi-“

“Everything is _not_ fine, Tweek! What the hell are _those_!” The teen asked, pointing at Tweek’s wrists and grabbing his arm. Tweek winced as he was pulled toward his friend, knowing that a few of his cuts had probably been reopened in the process. He had seen them. The long lines of red, with small bruises spread along his skin. His arms had turned slightly blue earlier that morning, and he knew it was because he had cut slightly too deep in a few areas. They looked worse than what they really were, and he needed to make sure Kenny knew that. Then maybe he wouldn't be freaking out as badly.

“Please be quiet. Please…”

“The fuck? No! Not until you tell me what’s going on!”

"They're r-really not that b-bad, I s-swear." Instead of helping, Kenny's face fell. He had just confirmed that there actually were cuts on his arm, and that Tweek had put them there himself. _Shit..._

A few people started standing up, trying to look around Kenny’s figure to see what the boys were talking about. Tweek stared at them nervously, mentally begging them to sit back down and continue ignoring them. A few listened, but the other older ones continued looking, probably trying to get some gossip to spread to others in town. The thought of other people knowing, especially from loud-mouthed idiots, was terrifying.

Kenny saw how Tweek was beginning to shake and he sighed, lowering his head and whispering furiously, “Fine. We’re going to the fucking back.”

Before Tweek could say or do anything else, Kenny pulled the smaller teen into the break room, almost slamming the door behind him. He had yanked on his arm along the way, and Tweek let out a small whimper, pulling away. The movement was enough for Kenny to let go, scared that he had hurt his friend. Naturally, Tweek stepped back, as he usually did when someone was mad at him - a behavior he had learned from all the times his father was angry. Kenny's eyes fell slightly and a look of pain crossed his face.

“Talk. Now.” He said, still determined to get answers from the nervous teen.

Tweek looked at the door, immediately thinking about the terrible possibilities. _What if customers began stealing coffee, or ransacked the register, or stole a machine to pawn off?_

“T-the customers…”

“I don’t care about them. I care about _you_!” At that moment, Kenny fully noticed the tears that were forming in Tweek’s eyes. He didn't want to cry in front of his friend, but he was so overwhelmed by the situation. Kenny's voice lowered instinctively and he closed the distance between them, putting his arms around his best friend and pulling him closer to lead them toward the couch. “Please, Tweek. I’m scared.”

That was what did it. Kenny was _never scared_. He was always the one laughing and joking, making every situation better. Right now, he was supposed to be the rational one. This wasn't good. What had he done?

Tweek leaned into his friend and gave a small sob, letting out all the tears of embarrassment and frustration and anger and sadness. He didn't want to be crying. He didn't want to be in this mess. The two of them were supposed to be bullshitting out in the shop, talking about school and playing games on their phones. They weren't supposed to be in the back of the shop, crying and talking about the one thing that Tweek wanted to keep hidden from everyone. He cried harder.

Kenny just placed his head on top of Tweek’s, letting his blonde hair tickle his nose. He gave small “shh” noises and rubbed the boy’s arms, letting the room fill with the choked sounds of Tweek’s cries. His comfort went a long way, and Tweek appreciated his friend's support. He couldn't help but feel some anger, though, with Kenny and mostly with himself. He was upset that his friend found out, that he forced him to talk, and that he had cut too far down and let himself be caught. He got himself stuck in this situation, and he craved the feeling of the silver knife in his hand.

Eventually, the sounds became small whimpers as he had no more tears left. Tweek’s head was pounding and his face felt raw, his eyes feeling puffy and his nose running like crazy. He probably looked more like an evil scientist than he did a teenage boy, and he couldn't think straight. All he could feel were his arms stinging like hell and his entire body shaking. As he was about to speak, the two were interrupted by a shrill bell. Tweek jumped, eyes wide. Then he remembered where they were again, and he let out another moan.

Kenny stood, pushing the moving Tweek down. “Sit. I’ll take care of them.” He said, walking out the door.

 _What am I going to do?_ Tweek thought, biting his lip and pulling his knees up toward his chest. _Kenny wasn’t supposed to know. I’ve always been so careful… Please not now, I can’t handle this…_ He began thinking of ways that he could escape. There was a backdoor that held into an alleyway outside, and a window beside the wall he was leaning on. He could sneak out through the clear framework and run toward his house, or sneak out the door and hide behind the disgusting dumpster. Though undesirable, he was desperate enough to do it. As he was about to stand, he was stopped by the door opening.

Kenny was back out and by Tweek’s side again, looking more composed than he was before. He was always able to pretend so well around other people, and it upset Tweek that he couldn't do the same. “They just wanted a black coffee. They’re gone already.”

Tweek nodded, looking away. Kenny then put something warm in his hands. He looked down and saw that his friend had taken the time to make him a cup of coffee, crisp and bitter; just the way he knew Tweek liked. _Damn it..._ He thought, regretting wanting to abandon his friend earlier. He felt even worse and took a sip, trying to calm his never-ending nerves.

“How long?” Kenny asked, looking down at his own lap. He began playing with his hands, squeezing his thumbs together and clicking the nails onto each other. It was a habit that he performed only when he was incredibly stressed, and Tweek had only seen him do it five times in the three years that he had known him.

The question startled him, but the answer was out of his mouth before he could stop it.

“F-five years.” _Stop talking..._

Kenny inhaled sharply and jerked his head up, forcing Tweek to make eye contact with him.“Tell me what happened. I deserve to know.”

Tweek nodded and closed his eyes, his entire body beginning to go numb. He knew he would have to do this. He just didn’t know it would be this soon.

He let out a sigh and opened his eyes, looking back at Kenny’s face.

“It was sixth grade…” He began, allowing himself to fall back into the first few days of when everything had started to go downhill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think you all can see where the next chapter will go...
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy it so far
> 
> <3


	4. Don't Let Me Bring You Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being left alone can do terrible things to an already troubled mind...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: this chapter deals with self-harm

Thunder roared above him, threatening to drop freezing rain and sleet onto the field. It was Saturday and he could have been inside his nice, warm house with a cup of coffee in his lap and _Terrance and Phillip_ on in the background. Instead, he was sitting along the bleachers, away from the cheering crowd, and watching sweaty boys chasing after a ball.

Tweek Tweak was at a soccer game. His first, actually. And he had no idea what the hell was happening. When was he supposed to cheer or boo? He self-consciously grabbed at the sleeves of his sweater and tucked his knees toward his chest, hoping that no one was watching him. They would probably notice his stare of confusion, and laugh at his stupidity.

 _They're too focused on the game..._ He tried to reassure himself. And he was right; everyone was cheering and shouting after the captain; Craig Tucker.

"Go, Craig, go!" His parents yelled, holding up signs that read, "Go Cows!" and whistling the school's fight song. His dad had a huge smile on his face, obviously proud to have such an athletic and popular son. His mom was sitting beside him, hugging Craig's little sister and talking to the other soccer moms. The crowd went insane when the ball was kicked into the net, and the other team's collective groans were audible across the field.

Tweek smiled, happy that his friend made a score. That was at least one thing he knew about the game - scoring was good. He looked around and saw his other friends. Clyde and Token were on the opposite side of the range, holding arms out and making different signals with their hands. Craig was back in the middle of the field with the ball again, and made a move to kick it in their general direction. Clyde took the opportunity and kicked it toward the net, scoring on his own and causing another roar to erupt from the crowd. Why soccer was so popular here, Tweek had no idea.

Tweek's three closest friends had wanted to play football, but Tweek begged them against it. It was too dangerous and he had spewed out statistics of concussions and football related injuries to scare them off. Of course, they weren't as worried about it as he was, but he had managed to annoy them enough to consider a different sport. It took months, but he finally convinced the boys to join something less deadly. In the end, soccer was the decision.

They had tried and tried to get him to join, but the poor spaz knew that there was _no_ way he would _ever_ play a sport. Especially soccer! He was hardly coordinated as it was, and running after a ball while balancing and keeping eyes on opponents seemed impossible. They knew their attempts were futile, but they continued until he made a compromise that pleased them all.

They relented when he promised that he would go to their games.

This was only the fourth game of the season, but Tweek had missed the other three due to having to take care of the shop. He didn't want to say "no" to his father, and he knew that he needed to make sure his parents had less worries at home. His friends understood, though they didn't know the entire story, but he still felt awful for not being there. Today, he had stood up to his dad and told him that he was going to go to the game, no matter what.

Of course, "stood up to" probably wasn't the right phrasing; he had actually shrunk down, avoided eye contact, stumbled through his words, and expected some type of screaming match or at least a threat of bodily harm.

He took it surprisingly well however, and he let him go after he promised he would work the entire weekend. He left before he could change his mind. He knew it wouldn't actually be that easy, but he didn't care about the punishments of the future; as long as he could make at least  _one_ game.

So here he was, in the chilly January air, shivering and downing as much hot coffee as he could to keep himself warm.

Craig looked up and made eye contact with him, giving a small wave before focusing back on the game. Tweek smiled and forgot about the cold for a second, happy that his friends had seen him there and knew he had kept his promise. He felt slightly more relaxed now. As much as he could be in public, of course.

Maybe he could sneak away now that he had seen him...

He frowned at his own thoughts, mentally cursing himself.  _No, I can't do that. I'm already risking Dad being pissed at me later, and I want to talk to the guys after the game. Maybe they'll be happier with me after seeing me here and knowing that I actually stuck around._ He nodded to himself, and crossed his legs, forcing them toward to cold bench as an attempt to keep himself from hopping up and sprinting away.

The game ended with the Cows winning, again. The crowd screamed with pleasure as the other team slumped their shoulders and heading toward their obviously upset (and very vocal) coach. Caught up in the thrill of the victory, Tweek stood and gave a few small cheers, and his cheeks turned a pinkish color at his audible applauds. The South Park players ran toward the crowd, smiles plastered on their faces and sweat dripping from their brows. Families and friends started climbing down the bleachers, cheering for players and reaching for their loved ones.

Tweek waited behind, not wanting to get caught up in their bumping bodies and booming voices. Instead, he sat back down and watched as the crowd slowly began to dwindle down, with players hopping in their parent's cars and heading home or out to celebrate their win. He hated the idea of being pushed around, and didn't want to have a panic attack in front of such a large crowd. As he stayed behind, he observed the scene around him.

The field was not as pretty as the football field; _this_ grass was real and dying, obviously not taken care of as well as the other sport. The white lines looked more explanatory than the numbers on other yards, but he still hardly knew what they meant. Another wave of thunder erupted above him and his eyes shot to the sky, observing that it was going to rain any minute. He hoped that he would be home before then, not wanting to drag water and mud into his mother's clean house. His dad had enough reason to be upset with him.

A squeal of tires on the pavement beside him made him look back over at the crowd. Only around ten people were there, and his stomach sank when he realized that his friends weren't there. _Did they leave? I wanted to say hi..._ As his breathing started getting faster, he was relieved when he recognized the back of Token's head. He was talking with four others, two of which looked to be Clyde and Craig. He didn't want to interrupt, but their stance made it seem like they were about to leave. He scrambled up, tripping slightly over the bleachers and down the steps.

As Tweek made his way toward them, he slowed his pace when he realized who the other two were. Tweek recognized them as seventh graders Stephen Tamill and Clark Holland. Two of the many people that happened to hate his guts. They looked up at him and narrowed their eyes.

_We don't know them... We don't even LIKE them... Why are they here?_

Craig's deep laugh broke through his thoughts, and the five of them were heading toward an unfamiliar car. Tweek felt nervousness rise in his stomach and before he could stop himself, he shouted out, "H-Hey guys!" He felt slightly possessive over his friends, and was worried about them being together.

The five of them turned around, and he watched as his friends' faces fell slightly. _Aren't they happy to see me?_   He suddenly got a wave of nausea, and he felt his stomach sink for no good reason.

"Oh, uh. Hey Tweek. Clyde, Token, and I were just going to get some pizza with the guys. I didn't know you were even here." Craig said, looking everywhere but in his eyes. What was wrong with him? And why was he acting so weird? It was like they didn't want to be seen with him...

 _The guys?_ " B-but you waved and I-I waved b-back..." Tweek frowned, confused. They had seen him... They smiled at him... He looked over at Craig for confirmation, but he just looked at Clyde.

Clyde shook his head and said, "I don't think so..." The brown-haired boy looked over at the other two with a look that Tweek couldn't understand. "We didn't even notice you, sorry dude." _They looked right at me though... Craig waved and even smiled..._  His confusion was overwhelming, and he took a step away from them.

The exchange shouldn't have been this awkward. Tweek shouldn't have felt this much dread. So why did he? Why did this suddenly feel like a break up?

Token shuffled his feet and looked at Stephen and Clark, as if mentally asking them to walk away for a second. The older two nodded and walked toward the car, leaning against it and talking as they periodically glanced over at the three. It was like they had their own language, somehow, and Tweek had never seen them ever hanging out. How much had he missed?

"Tweek... We haven't seen you a lot because of practice and games, and you haven't bothered to go to any..." Clyde started, looking at Token for support.

"B-but you know that my p-parents-" His voice began to hitch slightly, and he begged his eyes to stay dry.

Token interrupted him.

"We know. We're just saying, dude... We just kind of feel like we're drifting apart, and I think we all need to find some new friends. We don't see you anyway, and it's not fair to pretend like we're friends when we're not anymore."

His breathing stopped. _We're... Not? The last time we saw each other was last month, but friends don't have to see each other that often, right?_ If anything, he felt like _they_ were the ones that were avoiding him... He hadn't thought anything of it, knowing that they were busy with soccer, and he didn't want to complain since he got them involved in the first place.

"I don't u-underst-"

This time, it was Craig who cut him off. "We don't like you anymore, Tweek. You're bringing our reputation down, and the guys don't want to hang with us if you're there." His words sliced into Tweek's heart, and he looked into the dull, blue eyes for any sign of him kidding.

There was none; only annoyance.

His black hair covered his face slightly as the wind blew past them. Tweek pleaded with him mentally, trying to get his friend to give him a reason as to why they were doing this to him. Instead, Craig turned and walked away, heading toward his new friends. A few moments passed before anyone else moved. Sighing, Clyde followed, neither bothering to turn back.

Only Token stayed behind. The dark-skinned boy was staring at the ground, kicking his feet against the dirt as the air got heavier with awkwardness. His hand was on his shorts, scrunching the excess fabric into a ball in his hand. He looked as though he was squeezing the material tightly, upset with the situation.

"Token... W-what did I do? I-I'm sorry... I'll d-do b-better, I swea-"

Token gave an annoyed huff and looked at the blonde, chocolate eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth and closed it again, as if thinking of what he was going to say next. "That's it, dude. You're a baby. You haven't grown up yet, and we're trying to. This isn't elementary anymore, Tweek. And if you can't change like we have, then we're not going to be able to work together anymore." It was like he was _trying_ to hurt his feelings. And it worked.

Tweek's eyes stung and threatened to spill with tears, but he bit his lip to keep them back. Token, still knowing the boy so well, stepped forward and put his large hand on Tweek's tiny shoulder.

"W-why a-a-are you being so m-mean?" Tweek whispered, scared of the answer.

"This isn't personal." He said, his eyes sad. It looked as though he was pleading with him. Tweek realized that he was trying to make the situation better, like he always did - he was the mediator of the group. "We just... All need to move on sometime, you know? I'm sorry Tweek."

Those were the last words that Token, or any of them for that matter, would say to him in four years.

As Token walked away, he too refused to look back. Tweek looked down and a tear slipped off his cheek. He felt a pair of eyes on him, but when he looked up, his hopefulness was drowned by sorrow. None of them were looking at him. They didn't care. No one saw the tiny blonde begin to cry. Nobody realized how much their words had hurt him. If they did, they didn't care.

And nobody knew the bullying that Tweek encountered on a daily basis from Cartman, his neighbors, and even his family. Stephen and Clark bullied him too, and he was slightly scared that his three friends - _ex_ friends, actually - would begin to harass him as well. He hadn't wanted to trouble the three with his problems; maybe if he bothered them, they would think of him as a whiny girl with tons of issues. He held them back, and only their constant company was enough to keep him sane.

They didn't know that they were his rock.

They didn't know that they were all he had.

And now he was alone, watching his best friends leave without a single ounce of regret. He couldn't believe they would do this to him. Especially Craig.

 _Did I... Deserve this?_ Tweek thought, tears still falling from his eyes. A roar from above made him jump, and he spun around, tears pouring from his sad, hazel eyes. A small mist of rain began to fall, sprinkling the ground and progressively getting his entire body wet.

 _This is an appropriate setting for this situation..._ He thought bitterly, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

He hurried to his house, praying that he wouldn't be soaked when he arrived.

When he was on the steps, he was drenched. The walk home had been longer than he thought, and he dreaded walking into the place in his current condition. He saw that the lights on the bottom floor were off, and only the ones in his parent's room were lit. Their door would be locked and they'd either be laughing and watching some show, or screaming over some random argument that meant nothing. By the looks of the dismantled curtains on their window, it seemed to be the latter.

By now he realized that yes, he did in fact deserve it. Sighing, he opened the entrance to his house, causing the front door to creak and create a small echo in the room. The area was cold, and there was no smell of food lingering like there usually was. _This day must be a bad one for everyone..._ He thought, walking toward the staircase.

He heard his parents screaming upstairs in their room, glass breaking and his mother's whining while his father's angry words were muffled by the walls. They didn't seem to really be getting into it, so he wasn't too worried about the police showing up again.

Making his way upstairs, each step made Tweek feel more and more numb. His thoughts were scrambling in his mind, and he begged himself to forget the events of the day. There was no such luck for the boy, though, and he knew this would stick for a while. Once on top, he stopped outside his parent's door to hear what they were arguing about this time.

"You're never here! How can I run the house when you're always at that damned coffee shop?! How do you expect me to handle our fucking son when he's depressed all the time and hangs out with only three people?! I didn't want any of this!" He heard his mother scream. "I _had_ to be there because Tweek decided that he had to go to that stupid game!" His father retorted, putting the blame on their son once more.

"Fuck you! Put him in his goddamn place for once!" She screeched.

"Think I could do that in the shop? There were people all around! I might as well bust your ass as well as his. I'm sick of your fucking voice  _screaming_ at me!" His dad yelled back. A large bang was heard, followed by more screaming.

Another tear fell down his cheek. He didn't want to hear anymore.

Slowly, he made his way to his room and shut the door, locking it quietly behind it. Making his way to his desk, he pulled out a couple of photographs. Some were of him and his friends together, or photos of his friends celebrating their victories at their soccer games. A wave of emotions flooded over him; happiness, sadness, bitterness, jealousy, and finally _rage_. He began taking apart the pictures of him and his friends. With each new rip, the next became quicker and hastier, causing pieces of paper to fly around his room and into a messy pile on the floor. His fingers began to shake as he kept tearing, giving himself a few paper-cuts in the process.

Without thinking, he grabbed the pair of scissors inside of his drawer and cut through a photo of the four of them, slicing his paper face in half. He knew he would regret it later, but right now he was too upset to care. It's not like they even cared about him anymore...

The thunder outside was getting louder, and now flashes of lightning periodically lit up his dark room. He could barely see as the gray sky was now turning dark. The rain against the roof was heavy, and for once, he didn't want to hear it. It reminded him of the outside world, and all he wanted to do was be away from everything. As another crackle of lightning struck outside his window, Tweek saw his red face reflecting in the two blades of the open scissors.

He hated what he saw. He watched as another tear fell down his cheek and he felt disgust. Each emotion was so overwhelming, and his thoughts weren't making any sense, but he started feeling an unfamiliar sense of sadness. He had been upset before, but never in this way.

He must have been moving too frantically, because he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his finger. A small trickle of blood began dripping down his hand, and he realized that he had accidentally cut himself. His hand began to slowly feel numb, the pain slowly disappearing into nothingness. It was like it hadn't happened. And the pain had temporarily taken his mind off his friends. He blinked.

A sinister thought began to loop in his mind. His irrational thoughts began to take control.

Suddenly, one of the blades was on his arm. Pulling it toward him, he made a small scratch. It was a tiny sting, and as ridiculous as it may sound, it actually made him feel better. This physical pain took away from the mental pain he was experiencing, and he felt more in control because of it. Putting more pressure this time, he pulled it faster. This time, there was a deeper line and he could actually see a few drops of blood.

Slicing furiously, he made a cut for everything.

One for how childish he was.

One for how he made his friends leave him.

One for his parents arguing about him.

One for his fucked up mind.

One for Stephen.

One for Clark.

One for Token.

One for Clyde.

One for Craig...

He could barely recognize his arm by the end. Instead of the skinny, pale limb that he was accustomed to, he saw a swollen stick of various shades of red. The cuts weren't too deep, but they were enough to cause blood to drip down his arm and onto his leg. The sight was horrifying, and he smiled slightly at his creation. It was like a distorted piece of art, and he couldn't help but feel as though it could have belonged in a museum. His thoughts were making no sense, but he didn't care; he wasn't thinking of what had happened to him earlier.

Clots were caked around the wounds in an attempt to heal his body. He wanted so badly to pull them apart, but he didn't. Instead, he basked in the pain that he was feeling and realized that... He actually felt better than he had in a long time. This pain was different; it felt both horrible and... Amazing. He hardly remembered the thoughts he had had been thinking when he had entered his home.

Earlier, his feelings were so overwhelming that he wanted to break down. He wanted to cry until he had nothing left. Now, he didn't feel anything other than the cuts. The stinging sensation that ran down his left arm was enough to pull him away from the troubles in the world, and it was at this moment that he knew this wouldn't be a one-time thing.

And he was perfectly fine with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some might think that Tweek took this a bit too harshly, but when you're a lonely and abused 6th grader, being abandoned can really fuck with your mind.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope you continue reading!  
> <3


	5. Behind Blue Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Craig wanted so badly to tell him. He didn't want to be in the situation. But it was too late, and this was for his own good. Whether or not Tweek knew...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time to learn why Tweek's friends left him.

Clyde followed as Craig walked toward Stephen and Clark, and he refused to look back in fear of changing his mind. As his friend got closer, he closed his eyes and braced himself for the upcoming lecture.

"Craig... I still don't get why we're doing this. We love Tweek, dude." His friend whispered, confusion thick in his high voice. "We can handle them on our own." _We really can't..._

They both arrived at the car and Clyde began talking to the older boys, while Craig made eye contact with Stephen. As the seventh grader nodded, Craig felt his stomach tighten. He knew that he didn't need to do this. He felt like shit, but there was no taking it back now. He had successfully severed his bond with his best friend.

All for these dicks.

There was nothing he could do now. He was stuck. Did this count as an abusive relationship?

The look in Stephen's eyes made him believe so.

Craig glanced behind him and saw that Token was on his way back. Though the boy showed no emotion, Craig could tell that he was hurting. Token knew why they had to do this. He knew what would happen if he didn't. It just wasn't fair for Tweek...

Craig looked over Token's shoulder and what he saw made the world around him stop.

A small tear traveled down Tweek's cheek, and his lip began to quiver slightly. The poor boy looked down at his shoes as his usually pale cheeks turned a pinkish color. His best friend was crying. Because of him.

 _Tweek... Please don't do this..._ Craig thought, forcing himself to turn around.

He hated himself for this, but he couldn't let his family find out. Not yet. Not with his dad there.

As the five of them piled into the car, Stephen scooted as close to Craig as possible, smiling deviously as he slid his hand toward his thigh. Craig swallowed and looked around to see if his friends noticed, but Clark was distracting them with some type of game on his phone. They were good at pretending that everything was fine.

Stephen leaned down and whispered, "See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" He gave the black-haired boy's leg a tight squeeze.

"No." He said, looking ahead. _It was worse._

How had he gotten himself into this situation? A few months ago he had three of the greatest people in his life and only had to worry about getting in shape for the start of school. He would play video games all night, spend the night at a different house almost every week, and ignore the summer assignments that he received from the advanced classes he was signed up for.

He distinctly remembered the day that it began to change. When it had begun to turn into something sinister; no longer a loving relationship, but one of control. He had been practicing on the field in the afternoon, wanting to be alone so he could work on his kicks. He was chosen as team captain, but he knew that he could barely carry his fellow players since he couldn't play much himself. It was just random luck that he had scored that goal before. If it wasn't for Stephen, he would have face planted and looked like a moron in front of the whole team. He needed to get better. He couldn't disappoint anyone. Not with his parents in the crowd.

Tweek had wanted him to join, saying that football and basketball were too dangerous, and he didn't want to cause his best friend to worry. The poor kid spent hours searching up fact sheets online and printing them out, and Craig didn't want to hear about it any longer. So he managed to convince Token and Clyde to join as well, and they seemed to really like it. He didn't, but he knew that soccer was Tweek's favorite sport (or, at least one he could stand watching). So he'd just suck it up and play for him.

He didn't notice the brown-haired boy standing behind him. It wasn't until a hand was on his shoulder that he realized someone else was with him. "Jesus, man! You scared the shit out of me!" Craig said, running a hand through his messy hair and expecting to feel his blue chullo, forgetting that he took it off for practice.

"Haha, looking for this?" Stephen asked, bringing out his prized possession. Though he was only a year older, he was almost a foot taller and he held up the hat above the younger boy's head, laughing as he jumped up to reach up. Craig just rolled his eyes and sat down on the field, lying down and relaxing in the warm summer sun - in just a couple of months, it would be fall and he wasn't looking forward to the cold practices that his coach would surely push onto the players. He ignored Stephen's grunt of annoyance, refusing to give him any satisfaction; he knew he'd get it back soon enough.

It was a daily routine of the two; the boy would find a way to scare him, take his something that belonged to him - most often his hat - and then tease him until he got bored with it. If he was anyone else, it would have annoyed him. But the day that they started dating had signified his ability to mess with the younger boy.

Stephen sat down beside him and smiled, placing the chullo on his boyfriend's face. "You're cute when you're annoyed."

Craig took off the hat and rolled his eyes, throwing it back at him.

He made sure that no one knew that he was dating someone. Especially a guy.

His parents would be furious, and he was 100% sure that his father would kill him. He had already gone to jail for beating up one of his neighbors for hitting on him. His own son would be a nightmare for the old man...

His teachers and classmates would treat him differently, and the girls would ask him to go shopping or have sleepovers or whatever else a "stereotypical gay guy" would do. The thought of other people seeing him as someone else was a scary thought, but still not as frightening as what his friends would say.

He didn't want his own friends to change their opinion of him. Especially Tweek; he was closer to Craig than any other person. Token probably wouldn't care, Clyde might be uncomfortable by it and be slightly distant, but Tweek? There was no telling what that kid would say. He was a fucking puzzle, and everything out of his mouth always seemed to surprise him. He must have smiled or twitched, because the air suddenly turned cold between the two.

Stephen's eyes grew cloudy as he watched his boyfriend think, recognizing the look on his face. "Would you stop thinking about that freak already? I thought you were over him."

Craig snapped back into reality and looked up, frowning. "He's not a freak. And I was only thinking about how to come out to him, that's all." _Lie._

Why did it matter if he was thinking about his best friend? They were practically brothers, for God's sake. Could he not think about family every now and then? Why did he have to lie about it to make it seem better?

Stephen rolled his eyes and pinched Craig's leg, leaving a small red mark.

The boy yelped in surprise and pulled away, eyes wide. "Dude, the fuck? What the hell did you do that for?" This was becoming an everyday occurrence. 

Stephen just laughed and said, "Don't be a baby, man; it was just a little pinch." The older boy began talking about his day and his homework, complaining about his teachers and whatever else was bothering him. He brushed off the earlier exchange as if it had never happened. That was the eighth time just this week that he had done that, but before Craig had managed to convince himself that it didn't mean anything.

Now, though, it was getting harder. Craig tried to ignore the fact that his boyfriend had hurt him. It wasn't really abuse, and it wasn't even that painful; just surprising. He was probably just being a little girl about it... He self-consciously bit his lip and looked up, making sure his boyfriend wasn't giving him a weird look or thinking differently about him. He felt like he was worrying about that more and more lately... Nevertheless, he pushed it down, letting it leave his mind...

Now, as they sat in the car, they had only been together for a little over six months and Craig had mastered how to apply makeup. He would borrow his mother's and cover up the dark marks on his arms and legs. His stomach he didn't have to worry too much about; he was never shirtless around anyone other than Stephen. And his boyfriend took too much pleasure out of the bruises that he left on his abdomen, getting angry if they were covered in concealer.

Tweek had noticed once.

Craig had accidentally fallen asleep on his bed and his shirt was scooted up. Tweek shook him awake, panic in his eyes. "C-Craig! W-what happened to your t-tummy?" Craig looked down and saw the yellowish, swollen bruise that covered his side and he quickly pulled his shirt back down. "Haha, calm down Tweek. It'd be worse if I was playing football. Soccer can be a little rough sometimes."

He had wanted so badly to tell him about Stephen. How he forced him to do things that he didn't want. How he took his innocence and how he had cried about it so many nights. The beatings, the jealousy, and the rage... He wanted Tweek to know and help him. He wanted his friends to protect him.

But he was the rock in their group. They all had their problems and Craig was the one that helped them; never the other way around. So instead he switched the conversation away from it and distracted the blonde, getting him on the topic of school and how anxious they both were (though Tweek was more than enough for the both of them).

He regretted not telling him so badly...

Stephen didn't like Tweek, at all. He didn't like the way that Craig held him when he was upset, or how he played video games at his house until he fell asleep and ended up spending the night. He absolutely _hated_ that anytime he saw Craig in public, his three friends were trailing behind him like puppies. Especially the one with the crazy blonde hair.

He punished Tweek during school hours, never touching him but emotionally scarring him every chance he got. He took his anger out on Craig, of course, and as a result, Craig began to slowly stop hanging out with Tweek, causing Token to question his actions. It wasn't until November that Craig broke down and revealed to him that he was stuck. He was with Stephen, and he couldn't leave because he would tell everyone about them.

He was too scared to tell him that Stephen had taken pictures and had them on his phone, ready to send to his father if Craig ever fucked up. He didn't want to reveal that he took the hits because he was too scared to fight back. He didn't want his friend to know that he was a weak, pathetic individual. Instead, he only told him about the control and manipulation.

Token was furious and had tried so desperately to get him to tell an adult, but Craig begged him to keep it quiet. If his parents found out... He would kill himself before his father could. The scary thing was that he actually believed that to be true.

Of course, this wasn't a fair action to promise, but it kept the other boy from saying anything. Eventually, Token was stuck in the cycle and Clyde soon followed suit. They wanted to involve Tweek, but Stephen threatened to hurt the blonde if they so much as spoke to him. The next day, as an "example", Stephen had given Tweek a black eye and sent him home early for the day, without so much as a slap on the wrist. It helped when his father was an administrator for the school board. Token and Clyde were furious with him _and_ Craig, telling him to break up with him and stick up for their friend. Stephen had whipped out his phone and showed Craig a photo of his naked body, ready to be sent to his father's number in a heartbeat. Craig convinced his friends that he would handle it, saying that he knew that he had to do. It was then that they realized that if they didn't stop seeing their friend, he was going to end up hospitalized. And they refused to let that happen.

Stephen had promised Craig that if they stopped talking to Tweek, he wouldn't ever hurt the blonde in any way - not physically or mentally. Before, the thought of Tweek's safety overruled the idea of his own.

Stephen's laughter broke the boy out of his thoughts and he jumped, looking around the car. Token was staring at him, his lips in a thin line. Craig just blinked and looked away, focusing on something that Stephen's best friend, Clark, was saying.

He felt two sets of eyes burning into the side of his face, but he refused to look at his friends. He refused to acknowledge that this was real. He didn't want to think about what they had just done to their practical brother.

Stephen, still talking to Clark, gave Craig another squeeze and the boy lowered in his seat, biting his lip to keep the tears away.

_I'm so sorry Tweek..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Abuse can make people do crazy things, but at least they wanted to protect their baby Tweekers?  
> <3


	6. Damaged Minds in Warm Sweaters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tweek's days just keep getting longer. And here he thought that he was the only kid at school WITHOUT drama.

Kenny hadn't said anything for over five minutes.

He was just sitting on the couch, his fists clenched and pressing into his knees. His shoulders were slumped forward and his blonde hair covered his face, making it impossible for Tweek to see what he was feeling. A few more seconds passed before he decided –  _needed_  – to break the silence.

"K-Kenny?" Tweek whispered, pulling his knees closer. He looked down at the couch below him, pulling on the strings of the worn furniture and yanking them out while he waited for a response.

"I've hung out with those bastards. I've  _laughed_  with them.  _Partied_  with them. I can't believe them. I can't comprehend how  _anyone_  could do something so awful. I  _hate_  them, Tweek." His words were harsh, and his voice was deeper than any other time Tweek had heard it.

The sound of pain in his voice caused Tweek to jerk his head up, catching his friend's eyes. They weren't looking at him, but he could see that they were watery, threatening to release tears any second.

"I-it wasn't t-their fault..." Tweek began, not wanting to get anyone in trouble. He didn't know the whole story. He didn't know that Clyde had tried to talk to him a year ago. How  _he_  was the one who pushed him away.

"The hell it's not!" Kenny exploded, jumping up.

Neither boy noticed the two figures in the doorway.

"Fellers, what's going on?" A sweet voice asked, making the two of them jump. Tweek looked over Kenny's shoulder. A short, bleach-blonde boy in gray slacks and a blue button up was standing beside a brown-haired teen in braces. Butters and Jimmy were both holding their own coffee cups and watching their exchange, their faces puzzled.

"W-w-we closed d-down the shop for you, Tw-Tweek." Jimmy stuttered, staggering forward on his braces. The thin boy had gotten better at walking since elementary school, and now managed to even outrun most of the kids in their grade. He was sitting across from them in a matter of seconds, moving his crutches to the side and leaning forward to get a better look at the two. He wiped his palms on his blue-jeans, and Tweek noticed that his white top was wrinkled. They must have just gotten back from their track meeting.

"W-what's going o-on?"

Tweek looked at Kenny, begging him to not tell. He knew, however, that Kenny would tell him that they deserve to know. That they all needed to work this out  _together_.

He could still hope though...

"Tweek's been hurting himself." The blonde in the orange hoodie said stiffly. Tweek usually enjoyed how blunt his friend could be, but this time it was the exact opposite.

_Damn it, Kenny._

Butter's eyes went wide and he rushed forward, standing in the middle of their group. "What'ya mean, Ken?" He asked, worried. He licked his lips nervously and looked at the two of them, seeming more scared than Tweek was – if that was possible.

Kenny sighed and bent down, grabbing Tweek's arm. Before he could pull away, Kenny was yanking his sleeve up and revealed the numerous cuts on his limb. Some were almost healed, but the deeper ones were still swollen and had small, blackish bruises around their lines. The worst ones were covered in bandaids, thankfully.

Butters and Jimmy gasped, and the blonde grabbed Tweek's shoulders, pulling his face into his blue shirt. "Tweeky! Did _you_ do this?" He asked, and Tweek nodded sadly. "Why would you do this do yourself?!" The poor, sweet teen was shaking and Tweek could immediately tell that this was going to suck ass.

Jimmy stayed where he was, but began sputtering out some facts about how this could require stitches and that he needed to go to the hospital to make sure they weren't infected. He pulled out his cellphone. "I'll call the ER and get us a ride-"

"N-no!" Tweek practically shouted, pulling away from Butters and trying to look them all in the eyes at once. They stared at him wide-eyed, mouths slightly open. "I'm f-fine! I take care of m-myself, and cl-clean them up every time!" Butters mouthed the words "every time" and looked back down at Tweek's arms, tears already falling from his eyes. He put his hand to his mouth and looked at Kenny. They looked like scared parents trying to figure out what to do with their suicidal son.

"W-what made y-you do th-this, Tweek?" Jimmy asked angrily, as if ready to kick someone's ass with his incredibly weak body. His brown eyes bore into him, and Tweek couldn't remember the last time he saw his friend this mad. He may have been crippled, but Jimmy was fucking terrifying when upset.

When it was obvious that Tweek wouldn't put the blame on anyone, his friend decided to speak up. "Craig, Token, and Clyde." Kenny muttered through gritted teeth. "Fucking assholes. They told him they were his friends for years, then abandoned him when they got bored. They told him that he wasn't good enough for them. Decided to take the wrong side and fuck with him themselves. They-"

"It w-was  _my_  fault!" Tweek practically shouted, causing all three of his friends to look at him in questioning. Kenny was getting it wrong. They weren't bullies; they  _had_  been his friend – for years! Right? "I-I wasn't there when I-I needed to be... They n-needed to move on because I-I was a b-baby still..." Tweek tried to rationalize it out loud, though his words began to drift off as he realized there was no way to make the situation any better.

Kenny turned around in disgust, walking near the window beside them, while Butters took his place on the couch. He pulled Tweek toward him, protectively wrapping his arms around him though they were the same size. "Tweeky, you're perfect. You can't really think that  _you_  caused it, right?"

Tweek just looked down at his hands. He  _had_  caused it, and they just didn't realize it. They didn't cut him; he did that himself. He wanted them to know that he was the problem, but he also selfishly wanted to let them think that his ex-friends were in the wrong; he didn't want Kenny, Butters, and Jimmy to think of him differently and walk out too. He was the reason why they lost interest in him... He  _wasn't_  good enough...

"Welp," Jimmy started, grabbing his braces and pushing himself back up. "We're going to your house."

The others looked at him and Kenny nodded, as if the two were planning something in their minds. Butters just stood up, pulling Tweek with him.  _We can't leave! They already closed the shop, and we need to reopen it. We have to get more customers. If we don't make a certain amount of money, dad will..._

"B-but the sh-shop doesn't close for another f-five hours!" He complained, his stomach in knots. His dad would be so angry if he closed early...

Kenny looked him dead in the eye and said, "I'll take the heat, Tweek. This is more important than your father's damn coffee."  _This_ really _fucking isn't..._

With that, Jimmy and Kenny led them toward his house, talking quietly among themselves while Butters held Tweek's hand.  _What the fuck is going on?_ He wondered, thinking about how only a few hours ago, none of his friends knew his terrible secret. Now his closest friends – his brothers – knew that he mutilated himself.

 _This is just fucking great..._  He thought, disappointed in himself and subconsciously grabbing his arm to dig his nails into his cuts. He forgot about the small boy clinging to his side. Butters slapped his other hand away and wrapped his arms around his one, looking like a child being led by his father.

The positions were usually switched.

_I've really fucked up..._

Once at his house, Kenny barged through the door, not caring about keeping it quiet. He knew that Tweek's parents weren't there. They never were; his father was always on some "business trip" and his mother was either asleep in a comatose state, or out trying to find some home project to start and never finish.

The entire way up the stairs was one step of dread after another. It felt like an eternity until they were finally at the top, and as they stood outside of his door, Tweek felt like puking. He had a feeling he knew exactly what was about to happen.

Kenny opened the door, spun around, and spat out, "Where the fuck are they?"

"W-where are what?" He asked, trying to keep his eyes straight ahead and not travel to his bedside dresser drawer.

"You know what. The razors, the knives, the box cutter, whatever it is that you, you fucking  _butcher_ yourself with."

Tweek flinched, and shrugged his shoulders. He didn't want to be having this conversation. It really wasn't that big of a deal, and he was upset that he had dragged his friends into this mess. He wasn't suicidal (yet), and the cuts were never deep enough to require stitches. He never let them get infected; he was safe, careful, and strategic. They shouldn't be worried.

They needed to back off.

His eyes began to narrow, and he felt darkness start to creep in. Numbness began to settle in his chest, and he didn't feel like caring about the situation anymore.

_Fuck off._

"No. You are  _not_  shutting down on us." Kenny demanded, stepping closer and forcing Tweek to look at him. "Where. Are. They."

"L-leave me a-alone." Tweek said, immediately regretting his words. He had never said those words to any of them. Kenny's mouth opened slightly, his eyes wide.

Jimmy sighed and turned around, punching the wall out of anger. Butters whimpered softly and moved toward the bed, leaning against the frame. The noises were enough to squeeze Tweek's heart and he dejectedly looked at the worn, wooden dresser that sat beside his bed. Kenny followed his eyes and walked toward it, slinging open the top cabinet and gasping at what he saw.

Tweek didn't have to look to know exactly what and where everything was. There would be: a pair of black scissors in the left corner, beside his journal that had two tiny blood stains on the front; an orange Portal themed pocket knife that Kenny had gotten him for Christmas last year in the right corner; a bag of cotton balls; a bottle of peroxide; a few gauzes, and finally; two boxes of Band-Aids scattered around the rest of the drawer. It would look like the inside of a surgeon's medical cabinet. Except bloodier, as if he had just lost a patient.

"J-Jesus, Tweek..." Jimmy whispered, looking over Kenny's shoulder.

Kenny spun around, the knife in his hand. He was shaking, looking at the familiar object and touching his back pocket, clutching his similar blue one. "I didn't get you this knife for you to cut with! I got it for you so we could go  _hunting_  together, Tweek!"  _I don't even like hunting._  Tweek thought bitterly, and he winced at his own words.

"I didn't know I had fucking  _helped_  you hurt yourself!" The sentence snapped him out of his anger.

Tweek's eyes went wide and he rushed forward, putting his hands on Kenny's shoulders. For the first time, Kenny brushed him off, as if he wanted nothing to do with him.  _No no no no..._

"Y-you  _didn't_  help me. I-I did this... I o-only used it once!"  _As if that makes it better._

Kenny looked at him with painful skepticism, and Tweek felt his heart jerk.  _I can't lose these guys too... I'm such a terrible friend. I'm such a bad person. I hate myself so much..._

"I-I, you don't, y-you..." No words were coming to mind, and he felt his friends slipping away. His sides of his vision began to darken, and there was a chance that he was about to pass out.

As Kenny took a sharp inhale to no doubt yell at Tweek again, Butters chimed in. "This isn't the time to be yelling. This is the time for support, Kenny. We gotta be there for our Tweeky. He's hurting." The soft-spoken boy had tears in his eyes and a forced smile on his face. This entire situation was too much for Tweek.

His breathing became ragged and his legs buckled underneath him. He was beginning to have an anxiety attack, and the world around him began to move too quickly. The reality of the situation had only just hit him, and it was too much to handle all at once. He was watching his friends start to hate him, one of his darkest secrets was out in the open, and his father's shop closed early and was losing money... Even worse, his parents would be so mad at him.... All he wanted to do at that moment was cut. And he couldn't.

He let out a soft wail and leaned against his bedpost, curling his legs up and placing his head in his hands. He began bumping his head against the wooden frame, softly but enough to give a small sting. No audible words were coming out; only moans and hitched cries. His friends stood above him, and he could feel their stares piercing into his body.

Butters sat beside him and grabbed his head, pulling him close and letting Tweek rest his head in his lap. Jimmy followed and sat down in front of them, placing his arm on Tweek's and giving him a sad smile. Such small acts, but they meant the world to the crying boy.  _They haven't left me yet... Maybe they won't at all..._

Kenny took longer to come down, and at one point Tweek thought he had left the room. When the boy cracked one eye open and blinked through the tears, he saw that his friend hadn't left at all. He was... Crying. He was running a hand through his hair and staring out the window, as if trying to escape the situation.

He looked down and saw the younger boy staring at him. He swallowed and leaned down, putting his hand on Tweek's head and brushing his blonde hair out of his eyes. "Tweek... I can't tell you how much this hurts me... But I know you're hurting worse. And we're going to help you. You're going to make it. And we won't stop until you're better."

Tweek blinked and watched as Butters and Jimmy nodded at Kenny, turning their heads and staring at Tweek, waiting for his reply.

He had never expected them to take it this way. He hadn't expected to have anyone find out anytime soon, and  _especially_  not them. But they did, and they weren't leaving him. They... Wanted to help? This was too overwhelming.

The only thing that Tweek could do was nod and give a small, "O-okay."

The three boys wrapped their arms around him, and he let himself cry for a bit longer, feeling loved for the first time in a long time.

As he closed his eyes, he felt himself smile despite the horrific events that just happened. But he also felt a tightness in his stomach at the idea that he wouldn't be able to cut.

At least not in an area they could see...

He must have fallen asleep at one point because when he opened his eyes, the room around him was pitch black. The only light that could be seen was the red flashing from his alarm clock on his table.

It was 3 am.

His neck hurt from the position that he was lying in; his head in Butters' lap with his legs curled underneath him. He looked up and saw that Butters' head was hanging down, facing him though his eyes were closed. That would  _definitely_  not be comfortable in the morning.

Jimmy had fallen asleep on the floor beside them, cuddling his braces and shivering slightly from the cold, wooden floors. Kenny, at some point, had moved to the bed, and was the only one that looked seemingly comfortable.

Tweek knew that he had troubles sleeping too; his mattress at home was barely holding together and his parents were usually up all night drinking or having their friends over, trashing the house. Most of the time, Tweek knew that Kenny was in Karen's room, rocking her to sleep as she cried over the life that they were stuck with. He'd stay up all night to protect her.

But right now, he was here - protecting Tweek. He felt a sharp ping of guilt stabbed him in the chest. Karen probably needed him more right now.

Tweek slowly slipped out of Butters' grasp, carefully moving his friend in a more comfortable position. He quietly walked toward his chair and picked up the extra blanket, placing the warm material over his two friends on the floor, and made his way out of the room.

He wasn't tired anymore; his insomnia never let him sleep for too long. He was surprised that he had managed to get more than five hours already.

As he walked down the hallway, he saw that his parents weren't home; their door was open and the fan was off still. There were no noises from downstairs, and he assumed that they had both left to go to some hotel or retreat like they usually did after their fight nights.

Making his way downstairs, he quietly escaped out the back door. He was walking toward his tree, ready to sit beneath it and stare at the stars. As he neared it, though, he felt someone watching him.

He paused and spun around, looking for any sign of another presence. He was probably just being paranoid, as always...

"Tweek." A deep voice said, and the poor boy let out a squeal, falling backwards and landing on his butt.

Maybe he wasn't being paranoid.

Craig Tucker laughed and leaned forward, offering to help him up. Tweek swallowed and pushed himself off the ground, not touching the other boy. The two stared at each other for a moment, an awkward silence hanging in the air.

Tweek looked up at his window and swallowed.  _Please don't let them see you... They'd fucking kill you._  Or try, at least; Craig was a pretty big guy.

"Uh, sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." His neighbor said, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.

"W-What're you d-doing?" Tweek asked, hoping that there weren't others with him.

"I was... I was going to go for a walk, but then I saw that you were out and I figured that I might as well say hey."

"Y-you were going for a w-walk at th-three AM?"

Craig rolled his eyes. "Don't give me that. The other day you fucking slid down your tree like a ninja and took off for hours."

 _Hours? How did he know how long I was out?_  "Y-yeah... I couldn't s-sleep."  _Wait, did he say ninja?_

"Still?" Craig asked, walking toward Tweek's tree and sitting down, leaning his back against its trunk. "I figured you'd have gotten that under control by now... I'm sorry, man."

 _I wanted to be alone..._  Tweek frowned, but nonetheless sat beside the older boy. Craig was like a furnace compared to the tiny teen, and Tweek gladly absorbed as much heat as he could.

He was nervous. He didn't know what to say. There was so much that he wanted to come out of his mouth, to ask, to yell. Especially after recent events. It was too quiet. What was Craig thinking? Did he think he was weird? Did he-

"Dude, you're shaking." Craig shrugged off his jacket and offered it to him. Tweek stared at it for a moment before taking it, giving a small thank you. As he put it on over his shoulders, it practically swallowed him. His arms were too short for the sleeves and he had to pull the fabric up a bit just to see his fingers. A small breeze whooshed past them, and he inhaled Craig's scent; a surprisingly sweet, floral smell that made him crave a cup of coffee.

He felt slightly light-headed and his stomach growled. He hadn't eaten yesterday, or the day before. Except that apple, but that wasn't really much. He really didn't need to pass out, especially in front of Craig Tucker.

"Sorry about Bebe." The other boy said, almost too quietly for Tweek to hear.

"W-what? Oh, it's f-fine."

Why was he being nice to him? Hell, why was he  _talking_  to him? They weren't friends. They hadn't been in a long time.

Tweek looked up at his window again, incredibly paranoid that his friends would see. It wasn't like their exchange meant anything, and he didn't need to hide their interaction from the three, but he  _knew_  that they would be pissed if they saw the two together.

"So about the project..."  _Oh yeah._  Tweek remembered, mentally cursing himself for thinking that Craig would be talking to him for any other reason than a school assignment. "I was wondering where and when we were going to do it."

"I-it's due Friday. It's only T-Tuesday." He stuttered, confused as to where the conversation had gone.

It was 3 AM on a Tuesday, his best friends had just discovered that he cut himself, and he was talking to a boy that broke his heart almost five years ago. This day was exhausting, and it hadn't even started yet.

"I know... I don't even care about the project. I don't know why I brought it up." He muttered dully.

"M-me either."

Craig cleared his throat and Tweek bit his lip.  _This is so fucking awkward..._

"My parents are divorcing."  _What?_

Tweek's head spun to look at him, his eyes wide. Craig was staring at the sky, a small smile on his face. Tweek couldn't tell if he was upset or happy or if he even cared at all. His voice gave no indication to what he was feeling, and his face was always void of emotion.

"I-I'm so s-sorr-"

"Don't be." Craig cut him off. "My dad is a fucking asshole and my mom finally realized it. He's leaving soon, and maybe things at home will get better." Tweek nodded, understanding what it meant to come home to a tension-filled house.

But he didn't understand why Craig was telling him this. He had other friends to tell, or maybe a girlfriend to spill his troubles to, or hell, maybe no one. Craig didn't seem like he needed anyone to comfort him, so it was surprising that he was talking about this at all.

"W-why are you t-telling me?" Tweek asked, impressed with his own bravery. The feeling was immediately replaced with guilt, though. He should be happy to be included in anything, but the past hurt still lingered.

"I... I just thought... Before..." The older boy wasn't making sense, and it didn't seem like he even knew what he wanted to say. The two sat in silence for a couple of minutes, the blonde waiting - begging - for any type of conversation to avoid the awkwardness that was beginning to sink in.

"Things will be better..." Craig whispered, beginning to stand. Tweek scrambled up beside him, quickly taking off the other boy's jacket.

Craig stopped him, shaking his head. "You need it more than me. You're a twig." With that, the black-haired boy walked back toward his house, waving behind him.

"Thanks for listening, Tweek. Sorry for the trouble." A sliding door being shut was the end of their conversation, and the blonde was left standing in the cold night, a too large blue sweater wrapped around him and a sweet aroma filling his nose.

Sitting back down, Tweek looked up at the stars and tried to understand why his former friend would tell him something so personal. Maybe he had just needed to say it out loud, and Tweek happened to be there at the right time. He really hoped that the older boy wouldn't regret their conversation in the morning, begging to not be beat up for what they had talked about.

A small breeze blew past him and the blonde pulled the hoodie around his legs, cuddling himself and surrounding his body with the warmth and unfamiliar smell of Craig Tucker.

He hadn't planned on sleeping, as he never could once he woke up in the night.

It was 4:02 am and Tweek Tweak had fallen back asleep for the first time in years

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I thank you for reading!
> 
> :)  
> <3


	7. Forget It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If only Craig knew how his words affected Tweek...

He was – rudely – awoken by Kenny kicking his foot. “Dude, did you fucking sleep outside?” His friend asked, a teasing smile on his lips.

Butters and Jimmy were behind him, holding out a tray of food and what definitely smelled like coffee. “We made you some breakfast, Tweeky!” Butters squeaked, grinning. Jimmy just rolled his eyes and grabbed a piece of toast from the tray, laughing as Butters gasped and tried to smack him away.

“Now would you come in and eat it before these monsters do?”

Tweek smiled and nodded, taking his legs out of the sweater that he slept in and standing up.

 _Wait… Sweater?_ He realized that last night he had actually spoken to Craig Tucker, and the older boy had let him borrow his fucking signature jacket. _The fuck?_

Butters and Jimmy were already walking back into the house, but Kenny caught eyes with him. “Where’d you get that?” Tweek bit his lip and glanced at Craig’s house for a moment, but knew that Kenny would be furious if he heard that the two had spoken. It would take a while for him to stop being pissed at his former group of friends, and he didn’t want to make anyone angry in the process.

“I-I found it i-in my closet.” He lied.

Kenny stared at him for a few seconds, as if he didn't believe him. Instead of saying anything, however, he only nodded and grabbed Tweek’s arm to pull the smaller boy toward him. His arms were around him and Tweek breathed in his familiar scent of cigarettes and aftershave. He felt the older boy give him a soft squeeze, and Tweek was thankful for the hug. “You’re okay, right?” He whispered, his head on top of Tweek’s.

Tweek gave a small nod, and looked past him at his neighbor’s house. He felt somewhat guilty that he was thinking of Craig while they were close, as if betraying their friendship. This whole situation was very confusing, and he wasn't even sure how he felt. He thought that he had gotten over his past friendships, but now after telling Kenny and the others, he felt like it had happened only a couple of days ago.

He felt a pair of eyes, and he blinked, realizing that they were being watched. Though he was shorter than Kenny by more than a foot, he was able to see the other boy that was staring at them from out of his window on the second floor. Craig Tucker was watching them as they pulled apart and Kenny grabbed Tweek’s hand, guiding them into the house.

Craig’s eyes narrowed and he saw a look of annoyance on his face. Was he upset with him? But last night had been a sweet moment between the two… Then again, the last time he thought everything between them was fine ended with their friendship dissolving. Tweek felt his stomach sink. _Shit, he really_ is _going to beat me up…_

Breakfast consisted of Jimmy cracking random jokes to get Butters to laugh so hard that he snorted out maple syrup, and Kenny stealing bits of everyone’s food. Butters had made a little bit of everything; a pan full of scrambled eggs, a stack of chocolate-chip pancakes, hash browns, and toast with jam. Of course, he couldn’t forget Tweek’s favorite entrée: coffee.

They were too busy trying to make the setting feel light-hearted and fun, that they hardly noticed that Tweek hadn't eaten much. He felt Kenny's eyes on his the entire time, but made sure to take small bites of food whenever anyone actually looked at him. His stomach was full before he had even swallowed five bites of toast, but he forced himself to eat a couple more to at least  _appear_ like he was getting enough. Nausea was started to swirl in his stomach as his body screamed to stop eating.  _I can walk to school, burn it off. It'll be fine..._ He tried to convince himself, though he knew it would linger on his thoughts all day.

In the middle of laughing, Tweek noticed that the clock on the microwave read 7:05. School started in forty-five minutes, and he hadn’t even showered yet. “Nngh!” He squealed, jumping up and hitting his knees against the dining table. The others looked at him, confused at the sudden change in his behavior. Twitching, all he could do was point at the clock and make frantic noises.

Jimmy rolled his eyes and said, “A-alright, dude. W-w-we’re leaving. Get ready f-fast.” As he struggled to stand up, Butters began to put the dishes away. Tweek tried to stop him, saying that he could do it, but the boy waved him off. They were babying him because of yesterday, and he didn’t quite know how to feel about it… He looked over at Kenny, and the boy was getting Tweek’s stuff ready for school. “Go shower, man.”

He decided that he didn’t like it.

“G-go home, guys. I-I can take care of th-this.” He said, quietly but with a small amount of force. The three looked at him, then each other, and back. Butters opened his mouth to protest, but Jimmy stopped him. “W-we’ll see you at s-school, Tweek.” His two friends looked at the teen in confusion, but nodded and let Jimmy walk them out.

“Uh, see you Tweek!” Kenny said, practically being forced out of his house. Tweek knew that he wanted to stay and make sure he didn’t do anything. His friends obviously didn’t trust him, but he desperately needed the alone time. He loved the guys, but sometimes their compassion was overwhelming. He definitely wasn’t used to being cared for at home.

Hastily, Tweek began putting away the dishes. Part of the reason why he had wanted to take over was because Butters didn’t know where everything was supposed to go, and how much cleaning solution to use on the pans. His mother took pride in making sure everything was _perfect_ and she would sense that something was out of place the moment she stepped through the door.

By the time he was officially done cleaning, he saw that it had taken him nearly thirty minutes. He was no doubt going to be late. For once, this didn’t bother him; he actually considered staying at home and avoiding school – and his friends – altogether. But he knew that they wouldn’t go for that, and they’d leave if he wasn’t seen by second period.

Sighing, Tweek trudged upstairs, starting the shower and putting it on the hottest dial. Subconsciously, he walked over to his drawer and opened the cabinet. Everything except the peroxide and bandages were gone. His heart caught in his throat and his blood ran cold. _Where are they?_

At some point, his friends had taken _his_ belongings, and hadn’t told him. He didn’t know what he had expected; he knew that he would be babied for a while, but he didn’t think that every sharp object would be _stolen_ from him. A small wave of anger washed over him, and he ran to the bathroom. Without thinking, he pressed his palm against the jagged tiles underneath the sink, relaxing as the pain pierced through his skin.

Then he realized what he had done. Immediately, he pulled his hand back and jumped up, bumping his head on the basin. _Fucking OW._ He thought, his hand flying to the back of his skull. No blood, but he wouldn’t be surprised if there was internal bleeding; he had hit the sink _hard_.

“D-does this count as self-h-harm?” He asked aloud, looking at himself in the mirror. He was paler than usual, and goosebumps covered his skin. He watched as he took his shirt off, then grimaced at what he saw. His stomach looked bloated, though he could still see his ribs poking out beneath his skin. He knew that he shouldn’t have eaten so much during breakfast. He hadn’t wanted to turn down what Butters had made, but he hadn’t _needed_ that much toast. He refused the pancakes, saying that Kenny liked them more, but he couldn’t help himself to a single bite of hash browns.

He spun around, trying to escape his reflection. He took off the rest of his clothes and hopped into the shower, quickly shutting the curtain behind him to avoid the risk of seeing himself again. As he stood in the water, he let the warm liquid travel all along his body, trying to absorb as much heat as he could. It was getting colder these past weeks – and as a result, so was he – and he knew it would only get worse in the winter.

Tweek had a routine when he showered. First, it was shampooing his hair. While he let the soap set, he would wash his body, scrubbing away as much as he could to feel clean – though he never felt pure enough. As he washed his hair and body off, he would apply acne treatment to his face, attempting to have as good of skin as Kenny. Next, he would apply conditioner and leave it in for exactly two minutes, as it said on the bottle, then wash it out slowly.

He had been doing this for years, and had never once broken the habit – not even when he spent the night somewhere else. He had inherited his mother’s OCD that way. He only ever messed up during the small instances where something would change, but he couldn’t risk having an attack when no one else was around.

He was out after ten minutes, and he walked to his room in just his towel, not wanting to dress in front of that damned mirror. As always, he slipped on a pair of jeans and a green flannel shirt. When he was fully dressed, he noticed that he had managed to miss a button on his shirt – _again_. At this point, he didn’t care; it was 8:15. As he began walking out of his room, a piece of fabric caught his eye.

Craig’s sweater.

He wanted to wear it over his clothes, knowing that it would swallow him and he could escape into the jacket. He would be able to pull the sleeves all the way down and hide himself, sealing his body in the warm material and beautiful smell of whatever Craig used as cologne. He stopped himself, surprised at what he just thought.

 _Beautiful smell of Craig? The fuck? I do_ not _like Craig. Not anymore. I can’t._

Shaking his head, he went ahead and grabbed the jacket. He wouldn’t wear it; he would just give it back to the boy during a passing period and pretend like it had never happened. If someone saw, he’d say that Craig had left it outside and he was simply returning it to its rightful owner. It would be a simple exchange that meant nothing. Unless Craig allowed him to keep it.

 _I don’t want the fucking jacket. It’s just a piece of cloth. It means nothing to me._ He tried to convince himself, feeling slightly lightheaded.

_What if he beats me up for last night, and then claims that I stole his jacket? What if he convinces everyone that I’m some type of stalker, and I snuck into his room and hoarded it? He wouldn’t do that… Right?_

As he walked down the stairs, Tweek found himself glancing at the photos along the wall. They were covered in dust, and he knew that his family never looked at them anymore. They, for some reason, didn’t want to remember a time in which they were _all_ happy. It was like that period of their lives didn’t matter, and they wanted to stay a bitter, fighting couple living with some fucked up teen. It was like they weren’t even related…

The smiling faces in the pictures meant nothing now, and he felt a pang of sadness in his chest. He remembered how, in elementary, his mother had been so sweet and offered to volunteer at every school event, while his father was a calm, level-headed coffee shop owner. What had changed?

Oh yeah. His mother had lost her sister, and she went off the deep end. Her mind had snapped, and her suicide attempt had brought the family down. She was hospitalized for a while, and then diagnosed with a string of disorders that Tweek had never heard of – except obsessive compulsive disorder. She was placed on dozens of different medications, and they all had major side effects that had to have even more pills to counteract. Eventually, she turned into what she was now: a doped up airhead with a high-strung attitude and a restless need for perfection.

His father just stopped caring after that, saying that there was no point in trying if his wife wasn’t going to either. He didn’t care about Tweek, it seemed. As long as his mother was messed up, his father would be too. Every fight, every harsh word, every broken object… They all were held inside of him until he exploded and took his anger out on Tweek. He had only hit him a few times (or at least, no more than a couple dozen), and that was when it was really bad and Tweek had done something to provoke him. Usually, his father would ignore him and let him live his own life. On the rare occasion, he would crack a joke and smile at him, his eyes dead.

He was out the door in seconds, desperately wanting to leave his hollow home. He locked the door, tested it out, and then made sure that he locked it. He wasn’t going to come home to a ransacked house and an escaped, murderous inmate.

He plugged his headphones in, and clicked play. He had set his music on random, but he continued flipping until he found a song he liked. Eventually, he settled on one with a haunting background and a deep voice singing about some broken life, and he put a cigarette in his mouth. Whipping out the lighter, he felt a twinge of guilt as he saw the cartoon figures. They had found out he was cutting himself, but they didn’t know about his smoking – save for Kenny – or his eating patterns. If they learned about them now… He was scared he wouldn’t have any friends at all.

Shaking off his feelings, he continued to light the stick and took an inhale. He could taste the tobacco in the back of his throat, and he let out a small smile as smoke blew through his lips. _Dying one puff at a time._

By the time he got to the school, it was third period. _Shit._ He reached in his pocket and pulled out his phone, wincing as he saw that he has eighteen messages from Kenny himself. He also had two missed calls from his mother. He didn’t know which to be more scared of.

He made his way up the steps and entered the building, not bothering to sign himself in because he knew that the administration didn’t give a fuck about him. He headed toward psychology, dreading having to face his partners. He actually managed to be early, and he sat down in the back, pulling out his phone to text his friend.

Three more messages.

Reading through them, it seemed like Kenny was getting more frantic with each text. It was as if he thought Tweek was going to kill himself. He couldn’t help but feel like his friends were being dramatic and overbearing, but he texted him back anyway. He took a picture of the classroom as evidence that he was actually in school. Still upset, but better than before, Kenny requested that he see him during the next passing period. Tweek agreed, trying to get the teen off his back.

Mrs. Taylor walked in, wearing some shirt that looked like a cheesy vampire-wolf show, and he knew that she would be distracted on Netflix the whole class. She very simply told the students to get with their partners and made her way to her desk, pulling out headphones and getting herself comfy. That was another reason why he loved this class; Mrs. Taylor was fucking awesome.

He grimaced at the thought of working with Bebe and Craig again, but he still walked over toward their desks, sliding into his chair and looking down at his phone. Bebe was, again, chatting nonstop about some drama with sports or parties or whatever. Tweek didn’t really care, and he was trying hard to tune her out, but she was too loud to ignore. “And _then_ , Wendy told Stan that Kyle said that I was-“

“Bebe Stevens, to the principal’s office please.” A voice over the intercom spoke, and Tweek held in a sigh of relief. _Oh god, thank you._

She twisted her lips into a pout and slowly got up, walking out of the room while mumbling something along the lines of, “but I didn’t even do it”. Whatever it was, he was happy that she was finally gone. It seemed as though Craig enjoyed the new silence as well as he let out a huff of air. “She talks so fucking much.” He said, looking at Tweek.

Tweek gave a small laugh, but the other boy only stared. Tweek cleared his throat quietly and looked down, not quite sure what to say. He looked down at his sleeves and then remembered Craig’s jacket. His eyes grew wide and he jumped up, making the other boy flinch. “Dude, the fuck?”

Without responding, Tweek walked over to his desk and pulled the sweater out of his backpack. He had folded it to make sure it wouldn’t wrinkle, but he still looked it over to check. After concluding that it was presentable, he turned around and walked back over to Craig, setting the jacket down in front of the boy. Craig blinked slightly, as if confused, but then slowly reached for it. “Oh, uh, thanks. I figured you’d keep it.”

Tweek shook his head and sat down. “N-no. It’s y-yours. I w-wouldn’t steal from you, C-Craig.” He bit his lip and looked back down at his phone. Kenny had texted him again.

“Thanks. I guess you have enough of your boyfriend’s jackets.”

Tweek’s eyes went wide. His head jerked up and he looked at Craig’s face, but all he saw was a blank stare. Didn’t this kid ever _feel_?

“I-I don’t have a b-b-boyfriend!” He whispered frantically, looking around the room to see if anyone had heard their conversation. Craig shrugged. “It’s fine. I’m not homophobic or anything. And it’s obvious. You and Kenny seem happy.” His voice broke slightly on his last sentence, but he cleared his throat, playing it off as if he just needed to cough.

Tweek felt a flood of relief and gave a small smile. “O-oh!” He laughed slightly, shaking his head. “K-Kenny and I aren’t d-dating. He’s just my b-best f-friend.”

For once, Craig’s face revealed something. What, Tweek didn’t know. It looked like annoyance, though the boy didn’t understand why. Did he think that he was lying?

In a flash, the other boy’s face went back to its blank stare and he gave a small grunt in response. “Oh. I just thought you two were together, is all. You’re always hanging out, and I saw you two hugging this morning. I just assumed.” Tweek shook his head, mentally laughing at the absurdity of the idea. Him and Kenny? He was like his brother! “So, you two are, um, best friends?”

Tweek nodded again, forgetting for a moment the past relationship that he and Craig had shared. “Yup. We h-have been for around th-three years now. He c-came when I n-needed him, and he h-helped me through a rough time. Th-then Butters and Jimmy came in, and n-now we’re p-practically inseparable.” Craig was nodding, looking down at the table. Tweek didn’t know what to say; it seemed as though the black-haired teen didn’t really care about the answer to his own question. Tweek bit his lip and rattled his brain for a conversation starter.

“A-are you, Clyde, and Token still f-friends?” He knew the answer, but that was the only thing he could think of. Judging by the look on Craig’s face, that wasn’t an appropriate question.

“Yes, we are. We haven’t separated since elementary.” The look in the other boy’s eye was confusing, and Tweek didn’t know if he was angry at himself, or at the blonde. He decided that he didn’t want to find out.

“What about Stephen and Clark? I haven’t seen them since freshman year.” Apparently, that question was even worse. Craig gripped the sides of his table, but said nothing. Tweek didn’t know what to do.

Stephen had gotten into some fight during school during freshman year, and he took out a knife. Thankfully, he only got a few stabs in before the principal tackled him. The look on his face was terrifying, and Tweek remembered hearing so many of the girls screaming. He didn’t know who the other kid was, but he definitely knew that he was bleeding. A lot. The poor kid was lying in his own red puddle, and it felt like an eternity before they picked him up and rushed him to the hospital. He turned out fine, of course, but the event had left him so traumatized that he left school that same year.

Tweek couldn’t even remember what he had done. From what he had heard, the kid had bumped into him and knocked over his book. Stephen wasn’t having a good day to begin with, and the poor teen had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. After the incident, Stephen was sent to juvie until he turned eighteen.

 _Just a couple more months…_ He thought, shivering.

Clark basically disappeared after that, and it took Tweek two years to realize that he had actually moved away to live with his mom. Apparently his dad was a raging alcoholic and after his third DWI, he was sent to jail. Still being a minor, the teen was shipped away to some place in Oregon. It didn’t seem like people were affected by it, and Tweek couldn’t help but feel sorry for him – though he contributed to Tweek’s breakdown a few years prior.

“We were never really _friends_. We were happy when they left.” His words shocked the blonde, but he was still looking at the desk, refusing to make eye contact. Silence hung in the air for a few minutes before Craig finally spoke. “I’m sorry, Tweek…”

His heart stopped and he felt the pit of his stomach drop. That sentence was spoken so softly, and yet it felt as though Craig had screamed it into his ears.

As his mouth formed to ask "what", the teen was muttering something else.

"Nothing. Forget it."

The bell rang before Tweek could say anything in return, and the teen was out the door before the blonde could even take a breath.

What had he said? That he was _sorry_? For what? Did he mean for what they had done to him? Or that he wasn’t actually friends with the other two – which incredibly surprised Tweek – and had lied to him about it?

As he slowly began to stand up, his legs began to shake and he looked down at his phone. Kenny had texted him again, saying that he was bringing Tweek some coffee from the cafeteria. Instead of happiness, he felt a sense of dread and he didn’t even want to see his friend.

He wanted to run to Craig and ask him what the hell he meant, but he also wanted to be at home with a blade in his hand, slicing his skin open to control the overwhelming pressure of emotions that were surging through his body at the moment.

Looking back down at his phone, he texted Kenny and told him that he would be late.

With that, he ran to the bathroom, his hand in his backpack, clutching the extra pair of scissors that he kept with him at all times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Seems like Tweek is having a tough time with their project, don't you agree?


	8. None of Your Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What exactly had Kenny told him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *SELF HARM WARNING*

The blue hallways of the school were arching forward, closing in on him as he practically sprinted toward the restroom. His chest tightened and his breathing was ragged, signifying the fact that his panic attack was getting much, _much_ worse. His vision was spotty, the peripherals practically black. As his tunnel vision increased in severity, his veins turned to ice. He glanced down and strained to look at his mouth, wondering if he could see his breath. He doubted, though, that he was taking in large enough intakes of air to be able to see.

His legs began to tingle, and he ran faster, his hands still clutching the outline of the scissors in his backpack. _I need to get to the bathroom, **now**_. He pushed past a wave of freshmen that were walking in a line, taking up more than half of the hallway. He ignored their shouts of annoyance, though his face turned slightly pink out of embarrassment.

After what felt like forever, he finally managed to push open the door to the men’s room. Only a few guys were in there, either washing their hands or at the urinals. Tweek wouldn’t have to worry about them staying in there too long; class was going to start soon, and _no one_ liked being in the same room as him for too long. He was thankful for this right now, though.

He walked over to the furthest sink from the door, his legs shaking harder with each step. He turned on the hot water, splashing a bit on his face to warm his freezing skin. He gripped the sides of the sink so hard that his knuckles turned whiter than usual, and he was slightly worried that they would stiffen that way. As he looked up, he grimaced at what he saw. Bits of his messy blonde hair were pricked in different angles in the back, while the front stuck to his sweaty forehead. Beads of perspiration dribbled down his temples, clouding his vision.

He licked his lips and let out a breath of air, arms shaking as he scrambled to open his backpack. The last person in the room had finally left, not bothering to wash his hands. Tweek made a small disgusted face, but was too anxious to think much about it. The old, blood-stained shears were in his left hand while his right struggled to pull up his sleeve, making small noises of impatience. As his skin was revealed, he froze.

His friends would notice if he made new marks. And there was no way that he would be able to make just one. He glanced down at his legs, concealed by his jeans.

_They wouldn’t see anything there._

He nodded to himself and spun around, quickly walking into the closest stall. Locking the door behind him, he sat on the toilet and pulled his pants to his knees, exposing his incredibly pale, and slightly hairy, thighs. With the scissors in hand, he slowly opened the clippers, listening as the blades scraped against each other. It was like music to his pounding ears.

The school bell rang, and Tweak jumped, knocking the scissors on the ground.

“F-fuck!” He whispered, reaching down to grab them quickly before the germs could contaminate them. His finger pricked the edge of the instrument and he winced, but pulled them back up, ignoring the small drop of blood leaking from his fingertip.

Putting one of the blades on his skin, he pressed down and sliced. The blade wasn’t sharp enough, and the pain was more intense than what he experienced in his arms, but it was the familiar feeling that gave him the surge of alleviation. The single cut wasn’t enough, however, and he pressed back down – harder. His back arched as he brought a hand to his mouth, muffling the sound of his own distress. He continued, however, each cut worse than the last.

He stopped feeling the pain after the third. He stopped cutting after the eighteenth. He had run out of room, and his cuts were beginning to overlap. He watched as his blood mixed together, combining each scar and making his legs look like a bloody puddle. Small drips of the fluid trickled down his sides, traveling underneath his thighs and dropping onto the white tile beneath him.

He would have to clean that up.

He leaned back against the cold pipe behind him, taking a deep breath and feeling his tense muscles start to relax. As he felt a small smile creep onto his lips, the bathroom door opened. The sudden noise caused him to drop the scissors. He watched as the pair fell in slow motion, clattering on the tiles below and creating an echo that sounded almost like thunder. His entire body froze and his breathing stopped completely, begging for the person to get their business over with already.

“Tweek?” A voice asked.

 _Why can I never get a break?_ He thought, biting his lips.

“Dude, Tweek, you okay?” The familiar voice was getting closer to his stall and Tweek frantically grabbed for the toilet paper, hastily cleaning up the mess underneath him and wiping down his legs as best as he could. As an emerald eye looked through the slits in his stall, Tweek managed to flush everything in time.

“J-Jesus, man! What’re d-doing, Kyle?” He squeaked, covering himself with his bag.

The other boy laughed and backed off, pulling his eyes away. “Sorry Tweek, I didn’t mean to scare you. You alright?” With the coast clear, Tweek quickly pulled his jeans back up and grimaced at the fabric pulling against his open cuts. Thankfully, they weren’t bleeding badly enough to seep through. The blonde bent down and grabbed the scissors, praying that Kyle hadn’t seen – or heard – them on the ground. Throwing them into his sack, he unlocked the door and stepped out of the stall.

Kyle Broflovski was leaning against the burlywood walls, one knee pressed against the surface and the other on the tiles. His ratty satchel was hanging from his shoulder, and the color almost blended in with his carrot hood. His khakis were clearly worn, as they were his usual “go-to” pants. His red hair was hanging out from underneath his hat, the crimson locks curling around his ushanka.

Though the two rarely spoke, Tweek observed his former elementary playmate – and his own group of friends – more than he liked to admit. Kyle, Stan, and even Cartman had been his friends once, and though they had stopped talking a long time ago, he wanted to make sure that they were fine. He appreciated the fact that they had spent so many years together as kids, so the least he could do was keep an eye on them as teens.

“Hey, you in there?” The boy asked, tilting his head to the side and pointing a finger to his cranium.

 _How long was I staring?_ Tweek’s cheeks flushed slightly. The blonde nodded and glanced down at his jeans, checking to see if any blood was noticeable. Thankfully, they just looked like a regular pair of pants, and he held in a sigh of relief.

“Why are y-you here?” He asked, his brain still fuzzy from his anxiety attack.

“I saw you running in here, and… You looked upset.” Kyle shuffled his feet. “I just… Wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Tweek’s eyes widened slightly and caught Kyle’s own green ones. The Jewish boy was smiling, showing genuine concern for him. “Y-you wanted to make s-sure I was… Okay?” _This has to be a prank…_ Tweek couldn’t help but feel as though Cartman was getting ready to jump out with Stan and a video camera, laughing at him for thinking that anyone would ever care.

Instead, Kyle nodded and stepped forward, putting his backpack down and lifting a hand to Tweek’s shoulder. “I haven’t seen you around much. It’s been a few years, and I missed hanging out.” The blonde couldn’t help but scoff, and Kyle frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Without thinking, Tweek bitterly said, “It’s been m-more than five years, and you only _now_ care? Stan and C-Cartman sure d-don’t.” He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, and the hurt on Kyle’s face made him want to cry. “I-I’m sorry, Kyle. I-I didn’t mean that. I’m just… Going through a lot.”

The ginger nodded. “I heard. Kenny told us that you had a lot of issues going on,” Tweek’s eyes clouded as he realized that his friend had put him up to this. _What exactly did Kenny tell him?_ “…and I wanted to see how I could help. I always liked you, Tweek, and I wish that we had continued hanging out. So I’m making up for it now.”

His heart hurt. He had actually believed that Kyle had gone after him on his own free will – that he actually _cared_ whether or not Tweek was okay. He should have known that Kenny had put him up to this; the two still hung out after so many years, and he must have told him about what he found out. Tweek stared into Kyle’s eyes, searching for any sign of what the boy knew. Did Kenny tell him about his cuts?

Tweek shook his head. “I a-appreciate it, Kyle. You don’t h-have to do th-this, though. K-Kenny shouldn’t have t-told you.” Kyle looked confused. _This kid’s a great actor._ “I’m f-f-fine. I can handle this a-alone.” With that, Tweek spun around and quickly walked out, letting the bathroom door shut behind him. “Tweek, wait!” He heard Kyle call, and he sped up.

Taking a hard left and then another right, Tweek escaped the other teen and managed to find his way into an abandoned – and conveniently unlocked – classroom. The room was sheathed in darkness, save for the small slits of light that broke through the cracks in the blinds. Even still, he managed to find his way to a desk and sit down, taking deep breathes to calm himself. Only the sound of an air conditioner resonated around him, and he basked in the stillness he felt. He needed the alone time, and it was rare that he ever had it during school hours.

It didn’t last long, though. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and Tweek didn’t need to look at the screen to know who it was. He clicked answer and held it up to his ear, holding back angry tears. “Y-you had _no_ right!” He started, his voice starting to break. As Kenny began to speak, Tweek cut him off.

“I _trusted_ you, a-and y-y-you…” Salty tears began pouring from his eyes, and he bit his lip, begging for himself to stop. He didn’t want his friend to hear him cry, but he couldn’t help but feel betrayed by someone he loved.

"Tweek, what're you talking about? I just-"

He didn't let Kenny respond.

"You  _told_ him. Y-You told Kyle! You... You..."

“Tweekers, please. You don’t understand. Let me explain-“

Tweek’s lip curled up slightly, and he rolled his eyes. “No. I-I don’t want to hear it.” With that, he hung up, letting his phone fall onto the desk as he hid his head in his arms. His phone rang again, and he jumped, not expecting Kenny to call him back. _Doesn’t he have class?_

He didn’t bother to answer it, and instead turned his phone on silent. He didn’t care about worrying his friend right now, and only wanted to disappear. The darkness was unsettling for once, and he craved affection. He needed to curl up on his bed and feel the warmth of his blankets around him.

_I want Craig…_

His head jerked up and he blinked frantically, trying to wrap his brain around what he had just thought. It hadn’t made sense, and he assumed that he meant to say Jimmy or Butters… His other friends would have made more sense than the name that had come to mind.

He tried to make sense of it. He remembered having thoughts like those in middle school when he was upset; Craig was the one to hold him when he cried. Now, it was Kenny, and since _he_ was the reason why Tweek was crying, that was why he had said Craig’s name… Right? He nodded to himself, as if he was convincing himself of the idea.

He picked up his phone and realized that it had been almost thirty minutes since his head had been down, and he knew that he wouldn’t be going to his next class; he didn’t want to risk seeing Kenny in the halls. Kenny had called him another twelve times, and even left two voicemails. Ignoring them, he went to his messages and began a new one – to Butters.

_Can we go home? I don’t want to be at school anymore…_

In less than two minutes, his friend had responded.

_What’s wrong? Sure. Want me to get Jim and Ken?_

His fingers shook as he typed.

_No. Kenny’s the reason. I don’t want him there._

Butters took longer to respond this time, but his next message made Tweek sigh thankfully.

_Of course. Jim and I will meet you out front. Let’s go to my house._

Tweek smiled and nodded, telling him that he would be out there in a few minutes.

As he slowly stood up, he took a deep breathe, nervous about skipping though he knew the teachers didn’t care. He wouldn’t get caught; no one of any authority was in the halls during class time, and they wouldn’t question him if he confidently walked out of the school. For all they knew – or cared – he had a doctor’s appointment to get to.

He quietly slipped out of the classroom and shut the door behind him, making sure to leave no trace of his presence. As he began walking toward the front entrance, a voice stopped him. “Tweek, is that you?”

_So much for not getting caught._

He whipped around and saw Craig walking toward him. _Perfect._ “O-Oh, hey C-Craig.”

“What’re you doing? Aren’t you in class?” The teen asked, looking over Tweek’s shoulder into the empty room behind him. Tweek twitched nervously and looked down, at his hands. “I-I… I was skipping…” Surprisingly, Craig let out a laugh. “What? _You_? That’s awesome!”

Tweek looked up and blushed, a small smile pulling on his lips. “R-Really?”

Craig nodded, smirking. “Never thought you’d have it in you. You going to your next class?” Tweek shook his head, looking back behind him toward the stairs. “I was a-actually going h-home…” Craig let out a baffled whistle, obviously surprised that his former, anxiety-filled friend was actually ditching on a school day. Tweek couldn’t help but feel slightly proud of himself for doing something out of the ordinary; it proved that he had changed since Craig had last known him.

The older boy’s next question startled him, however. “Can I come?”

 _What?_ Tweek nodded, without realizing what he was doing. Craig just smiled and began walking toward the front, calmly strolling next to him. _Butters and Jimmy won’t like this at all…_ However, Tweek found himself not truly caring. He needed all the distraction he could get from Kenny, and this would definitely prove to be a diversion.

_Maybe it would even piss Kenny off. And he'd have deserve it after what he told Kyle._

The two thoughts startled him. How could he think that? Especially about  _Kenny_.

 _Focus on something else. Please..._ He begged himself.

As they walked down the steps of the school, Tweek saw that his friends were already out there, sitting on the benches and talking. Jimmy noticed him first, and his face fell as he saw Craig walking behind him. Butters turned around, his smile only faltering for a second before he regained composure. “Oh, why Craig! I didn’t know Tweeky invited you too!” Though his voice sounded cheerful and his face inviting, Tweek could recognize those annoyed eyes anywhere.

Craig awkwardly put a hand behind his neck and nodded, glancing at Tweek. “Tweeky?” He whispered, one eyebrow higher than the other. The blonde blushed and nodded, walking over to his friends. “Let’s g-go, please.” He said, turning back toward the school’s entrance. He wanted to get as far away from this place as possible.

Jimmy nodded and began walking forward, leading the way to Butters house. He occasionally joined in on conversation, but Butters did the majority of the talking. His questions – and comments – were mainly centered toward the new teen, and he politely dropped hints about what he knew of their past. Craig, however, seemed oblivious about this and answered each with a soft smile, surprising Tweek with his own civilized manners.

He thought that his friends would be down his throat, and Craig would be defending himself all day. Thankfully, it seemed as though this wouldn’t be too bad. His phone buzzed again and he saw five more texts from Kenny. The most recent seemed frantic, and Tweek’s heart tugged in pain.

_Tweekers, please answer me im so sorry please. you don’t understand, i swear. I didn’t say a lot. Kyle didn’t know everything._

Kenny’s words made it seem as though he _had_ told his other group of friends, and Tweek felt another wave of tears spring to his eyes. A laugh shook him out of his thoughts, and he looked up in shock. Jimmy, of all people, was laughing at something that _Craig_ had said. Butters face was red, and he was holding a hand to his mouth to keep from laughing harder. Craig was smiling himself, and the teen looked over at him, his eyebrows raised and a questioning look in his eyes.

Tweek, shutting off his cell, stuck the phone in his back pocket and caught up to the group, ready to forget about what had just happened. He took his place next to Craig, and gave him a nod as if to say that everything was fine. The older boy obviously didn’t believe him, but he made no attempt at learning more and instead just stared at the blonde in puzzlement. For once, Tweek was thankful for this. As they neared Butters house, he felt himself starting to relax, and he smiled at the pair of eyes that never left him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're still reading!


	9. Can I Smile Yet?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What else are friends for?

The scope of Butters’ room seemed to have gotten smaller than it was in elementary; the free spaces that once took up half the area were now replaced by shelves of books, a computer desk, a single living room setting, and even his own mini fridge. Though he had been in the bedroom hundreds of times over the years, Tweek still felt himself missing the simple features of when it represented a child’s mind. Toys had littered the floor, posters of stupid TV shows had hung along the walls, and there had been no way in hell that Butters’ parents would have let him have a television – or computer – unless they could monitor _everything_ that he did on it.

The only thing that hadn’t truly changed were the calypso blue walls; undeniably Tweek’s favorite part of the house. The color made him feel calm, for once, and he felt more relaxed in Butters’ mess of a room than he did in his own entire home. Butters’ had wanted to paint the walls at one point, saying that green would be more “tranquil and promote health”. Tweek didn’t care; the walls were a part of Butters’ – and his – childhood and personality, so they were staying. His friend only gave in when Tweek said it was fine to paint one side. So now, there was a single block of “praying Mantis” green (where had he come up with _that_ name?) beside his bed.

As the four entered the room, Tweek couldn’t help but smile at the small patch of color. It was a complete eye-sore and captured your attention the moment you walked through the door. As such, Craig pointed toward it and asked what everyone always did: “What’s that?”

Jimmy, Butters, and Tweek looked at each other in unison, smiling in a knowing way. Butters just shook his head, a grin plastered on his face. “I’m not very good at painting.”

Craig chuckled slightly, confused but polite enough to not push.

Jimmy walked over to Butters’ bed, placing his crutches in between the headboard and the wall. There were scuffs along the surface, indicating years of brace placement. The teen sat down violently and swung his legs around, making the poor mattress squeak with age. That was another thing that hadn’t changed in the room; Butters’ bed.

“Mortal Kombat?” The brunette asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Butters rolled his eyes as if to say no, but walked over to the Xbox, turning it on and getting two controllers. “Fine, but only one round.”

“W-why? You scared a c-cripple is gonna kick your a-ass?” Jimmy asked, poking the blonde with one of his crutches. “I would be. I’m pretty b-badass, if I say so myself.” His stuttering didn’t help his case.

The other two boys walked over to Butters’ lounge area, sitting along the loveseat and kicking their feet up on his coffee table. “Oh, now guys! My mom’s gonna be awful sore if I scuff that up.” Butters’ pouted, passing a controller to them. As Craig moved to pull his legs down, Tweek just shook his head. “H-he says that e-every time.” He whispered. Craig only nodded and held back a smile.

As the start menu loaded, Tweek began making a list to determine who would go against who, and what winners would go against each other. He went so far as to make a physical copy of his plans and showed them to everyone. Up first, it was to be Butters’ and Craig. Of course, Jimmy leaned forward and snatched the controller out of Butters’ hands, telling Tweek to “suck his d-dick” and telling Craig that he was about to be “obliterated”.

Tweek frowned, pointing to his list. “B-but-“ Butters’ cut him off, shaking his head. Jimmy and Craig were already picking their characters, trash talking each other before the game had even started. As Butters’ stood, he looked over at Tweek. “Can you help me get some snacks?” It wasn’t an actual question; Tweek could recognize the demand behind his words, and he knew that all his friend really wanted to do was talk. The teen nodded, slowly standing up with him.

As they made their way out of the room, Jimmy called after them, “Cherry c-coke!”

“What do you say?” Tweek asked, smiling at the brunette. Jimmy rolled his eyes and held up a middle finger, causing his character to get stuck in a chain attack from Craig’s. “Shit!” The two walked out of the room and headed down the stairs, with Butters’ laughing about how he deserved it because of his attitude.

“ _Please_! Happy now?” More noises of character attacks and another string of curse words followed, and Tweek gave a small chuckle.

By the time they were in the kitchen, Tweek had managed to forget about their happy exchange, and convinced himself to become a nervous wreck instead. He didn’t want to have to tell Butters everything, though he _knew_ that he was going to at some point that day. When they arrived in the kitchen, Tweek busied himself with getting the food out of the pantry, attempting to hide his face a little bit longer. “It’s not working.” Butters said, opening the refrigerator for the drinks. “What’s going on, Tweeky?”

Tweek sighed but continued searching the shelves for refreshments. His eyes scanned labels of cans, boxes, and condiments, not stopping until he landed on a large bag of chips. “N-nachos okay?” He asked, grabbing the food without waiting for an answer. He reached for the bottles of salsa sitting beside it, making sure to grab mild for Butters’ and spicy for Jimmy. _I wonder what Craig would like…_ He also grabbed a carton of Oreos that were trying – and failing – to discretely hide behind a box of Wheat Thins. _Gotcha…_ He thought, smiling to himself.

“Seriously, tell me. What happened with Kenny?”

Tweek turned around, food in his arms, and stared at his friend. Butters’ was the same size as him, but he could carry more. Two packs of sodas – Cherry Coke and Root Beer – were underneath his arms, and he was holding a pack of Cream Soda in his hands by its plastic wrapping. The blonde made Tweek look weak.

“He told.” He muttered, looking down at his feet. Butters’ made a small noise of surprise, and Tweek walked toward the center of the kitchen, setting the food down on the counters of the island. He grabbed a seat in one of the chairs, closing his eyes and putting his palms against them. He rubbed, seeing small spots of color in the otherwise blackness. It helped against his upcoming headache, and distracted him enough to put his thoughts together in an intelligent sentence.

“He… K-Kyle knew about m-me… Kenny t-told him. Kenny m-made him talk to me c-cause I was upset earlier.” He bit the inside of his cheek, tasting blood. “That was _m-my_ business and he just… just….”

Butters walked over toward him, setting down the drinks. Tweek felt a hand on his shoulder and was pulled backward, swiveling around in his chair. The sudden movement caused his hands to jerk out, attempting to catch himself on the counters though he knew he wouldn’t fall. Butters, usually careful about scaring Tweek, was looking at him with a strange sense of urgency. “What do you mean ‘he told’? What _exactly_ did he tell? Are you sure he said anything?”

Tweek shrugged, but pulled out his phone to show his friend the messages. As Butters scrolled through them, Tweek began explaining what had happened in the bathroom – save for the self-harming. “Kyle m-must have told h-him that I ran off… He c-called me right after.”

Butters’ brows were furrowed, and he was biting his lip in concentration. “I don’t get it… Ken wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t tell…”

“W-well he obviously did!” Tweek practically shouted. He froze, listening for the sounds of combat upstairs. The other two were still laughing, their words and the game muffled by the walls of the house. He lowered his voice and whispered, “W-why would he send me _t-that_?” Butters was on the latest message of Kenny attempting to explain himself.

The blonde set Tweek’s phone down and sat beside him, scratching his forehead. “He just needs to explain… I bet we’re just confused. Let’s talk with him, Tweeky.” Tweek just shook his head, not wanting to be having this conversation. “I-I just want to play g-games…”

“Promise you won’t be mad?”

Butters’ words puzzled him, and Tweek looked over in confusion. As if on cue, a knock was heard on the front door.

“Butters, w-what did you do?” He asked, feeling worried.

Butters just gave a sheepish smile, running a hand through his hair. Another knock came from the door and the teen pushed up, making his way to the front of the house. Tweek grabbed his friend’s arm, pulling him back and whispering, “P-please don’t tell h-him I-I’m here.”

Butters pulled away, walking toward the door. The blonde opened the door while Tweek scrunched down in his seat, preparing himself for the upcoming conversation. _It’s just Kenny… I shouldn’t be this nervous…_

He took a deep breath, and froze when the door opened. Kenny was standing in the doorway, his orange hoodie practically falling off his shoulders and his hair a tangled mess. His bag was on the ground and he looked exhausted, as if he had ran the entire way to Butters’ house. It wouldn’t have surprised Tweek if he had… He felt a mixture of guilt, anger, and sadness. Kenny was probably incredibly mad at him…

His blue eyes caught Tweek’s hazel ones, and he let out a sigh of relief. The teen burst into the home, walking quickly to his side. “You’re… Here…” He breathed, his voice raspy. Butters shut the door and made his way to them, awkwardly standing beside the two. The three of them were silent for a few moments, Tweek drumming his fingers against the countertop. Butters cleared his throat, grabbing the drinks and food. It was a lot for the boy to carry, but he obviously wanted to leave the two alone. “I’ll, uh, go back upstairs. See you soon, alright?”

Tweek nodded and watched his friend leave, his throat drying further with each step the boy took. Once Butters’ was upstairs, Kenny sat beside him, taking off his hoodie and revealing his ratty sweatshirt. There were a few holes in the bottom of the white fabric, and Tweek could see that Kenny _had_ ran there; there were sweat stains underneath his arms. He noticed Kenny’s hair sticking to his forehead and his friend’s attempts at breathing steady, and he felt slightly worried. “A-are you okay?”

“I didn’t tell Kyle. He asked why I was upset. I said that I learned about something that happened to you. I didn’t tell him what; I only said that it was something awful and that you had enough problems as it was. I didn’t know he would talk to you. I didn’t know he would track you down. I swear, Tweek. I had no idea. I didn’t tell him _anything_.” The words spilled out of Kenny’s mouth in a jumbled mess, tripping over his tongue and combining syllables.

Tweek bit his lip. He felt awful for assuming that Kenny had said anything, and he didn’t even know why it had upset him so much in the first place. He shouldn’t have reacted the way that he did… He felt like utter _shit_.

The two sat in awkward silence for a few moments, neither teen knowing what to say to the other. Tweek didn’t know if Kenny was mad at him, or if he was even still mad at Kenny. He still felt an anger, but he was almost positive that it was all toward himself; he couldn’t stop the continuous, self-deprecating thoughts that bounced around in his skull. His eyes narrowed and he slowly brought his hand to his leg, squeezing his thigh tightly to pierce his new cuts. A sharp prick of pain traveled from his hip toward his knee, throbbing his leg and bringing him back to reality.

Kenny coughed quietly, bringing a hand to his face to cover his blushing cheeks. Tweek swallowed and turned toward him, deciding to make the first move. “K-Kenny, I… I’m sorry… I-I-“

Kenny cut him off, leaping sideways and tackling the small boy. “W-what are y-you doing?!” He practically shouted, barely catching the counter and keeping them up. Kenny’s weight was pushing against him, threatening to pull them both to the ground. They stayed in that position for a bit, Kenny tightly squeezing the smaller teen with all his strength. Tweek didn’t move; he didn’t want to pull away and upset his friend, though he didn’t feel as though they should have been hugging yet. Had anything really been solved?

“Don’t ever be sorry… _I_ fucked up. _Kyle_ fucked up. Not you… Not you…” Kenny’s voice broke, and Tweek felt his arms tighten around him. The poor teen was holding onto him as if he was about to fade away. Tweek couldn’t understand… And then he realized that Kenny must have thought that he had lost him. Had he really thought that Tweek wouldn’t be his friend anymore? He was like his brother… He wouldn’t just leave him; not like Craig, Clyde, and Token.

 _Shit. Craig._ Tweek gasped and pulled back, remembering the dark-haired teen upstairs. Kenny looked at him, hurt in his teary, blue eyes. “Do you hate me?”

Tweek’s eyes widened and he frantically shook his head, bewildered that Kenny could _ever_ think that. “W-what? No! I-I just… I shouldn’t h-have been mad…” It was Kenny’s turn to shake his head. “You didn’t know… I should have explained…”

The two stared at each other for a few seconds, both not sure what else to say. Tweek bit the inside of his cheek, attempting to stop his blushing cheeks. “C-Can we forget about it n-now?” The tip of his nose began to turn red as Kenny’s eyes stared into his own. He couldn’t explain it, but Tweek felt a small sense of embarrassment. His stomach clenched.

Kenny smiled and nodded, pulling away from him. “Yes, _please_.” He chuckled and the sudden lift of air made Tweek relax.

“Hey, Tweek, you alright?” A deep, somewhat nasally voice called from up the stairs. Kenny’s eyes narrowed, the light blue irises turning gray. He spun around, looking toward the staircase. Craig stood, looking down into the kitchen for the blonde. He found two instead.

“Oh, uh, hey Kenny…” Craig said, slowly walking down the steps.

Tweek looked over Kenny’s shoulder, making eye contact with the teen. He stared into Craig’s eyes, desperately trying to get him to realize the trouble he was about to be in. Instead, he only looked at Tweek with confusion, awkwardly standing in front of the two and waiting for a response.

Kenny said nothing, and Craig moved forward toward Tweek, as if to make sure he was okay.

“What the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing?” Kenny spat, his voice laced with fury. The teen stepped forward, hands pulled into fists on either side. “Get the _hell_ out of here. _Don’t talk to Tweek._ ”

Craig’s eyes narrowed and he walked toward him, annoyance plastered along his face. “ _Excuse_ me?” He crossed his arms along his chest, standing his ground. “I can talk to him if I want. Back the fuck off, dude; he’s not your slave.”

Tweek’s eyes shot toward him, a sinking feeling in his stomach. _That was probably the_ worst _thing that you could have said to him, Craig._ He watched Kenny beginning to pounce, and Tweek lunged forward, placing himself between the two.

Suddenly, he was in the middle of an angry circle, and he could barely keep himself from shaking. His arms were up, his palms practically touching each teen’s chests.

“What did you just say?” Kenny growled.

Craig, smirking, stepped closer. His warm chest brushed against Tweek’s cold hand, and the blonde felt himself blushing slightly. His breathing was relaxed, and he looked cocky. He glanced down at Tweek’s face, and it seemed like there was a teasing glint in his eye. Looking back at Kenny, he sweetly said, “You heard me.”

_Craig, you fucking idiot._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sweet moments can never last long, can they?
> 
> Thank you for reading! <3 ;)


	10. Marble Slabs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tweek never thought that he would have two boys literally fighting over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for how long it's taken me to post recent chapters, but I promise you there are so many more to come! I'm done with my finals, and my break has officially started. So thank you for being so patient and kind!
> 
> I hope you enjoy :)

The air was still and silent, and if it hadn’t been for the clock’s ticking whispers in the living room, Tweek would have gone insane. His legs were beginning to shake – he couldn’t tell if it was from exhaustion or nervousness. He hadn’t seen himself being in this situation today; he wasn’t supposed to be standing in between a Craig Tucker and Kenny McCormick showdown. And he _definitely_ wasn’t supposed to be on Craig’s side.

Tweek’s arms hurt from holding them up for so long. His left side felt heavier than his other; the weight of his right was supported by Craig’s chest holding his arm up. Kenny was on his other side, though he was slightly further away than the other boy. The three of them had been in that position for a few minutes, no one saying anything or moving an inch.

A small rumble from below was heard, and he couldn’t help but flush. Was now a good time to suggest getting food? Butters and Jimmy were upstairs still, probably munching away on nachos and cookies…

“Tweek, why is _he_ here?” Kenny was the first to speak. Surprisingly, his voice was calm – if not sweet – and Tweek’s eyes shot to his friend, scared of what he would see. His face was relaxed and his hands hung by his side, no longer clenched into fists. “Tweek?”

“Why can’t I be?” Craig cut in, stepping forward and pushing Tweek’s arm down. The blonde lowered his limbs and took a step back, slightly confident that there wouldn’t be a battle – yet. “C-Craig, wait…” He muttered, not wanting to have to explain the situation.

“No, no. Let him talk. I’d like to hear why he thinks that this is fine.” Kenny said, eyes narrowed but a smile plastered on his face. He looked almost menacing, and if Tweek hadn’t known who he was angry at, he’d feel terrified. Right now, he was only scared. “Go on, Tucker. Let’s hear it.”

Craig walked past the two and over toward the kitchen’s island, scooting a chair out and taking a seat. “Look, I don’t know what your problem is, _McCormick._ I came here because Tweek’s my partner, and he was leaving school – I decided to come hang out with him. I couldn’t just turn him down when his friends offered to let me play games with them. The fuck is your deal, dude?”

His words came out casually, and though he sounded as if he couldn’t be bothered, his face showed a hint of annoyance. Tweek bit his lip, not quite sure what else he had expected; Craig was only here because he felt sorry for him, and he wanted to get out of school. The insides of his stomach felt like they had been deflated, and he halfway expected himself to squeak. Tweek was his excuse, and the teen was embarrassed for believing that he could have been anything else. _I mean, who could turn down skipping school, video games, and free food?_

Kenny’s eyes scanned him, attempting to meet his gaze. Tweek ignored his stare, looking past him at the marble counters. The statuario slabs created black lightning bolts across the surfaces, and the tiny blobs of ink looked like rain droplets on the countertops. The imagery reminded him of a thunderstorm, and his stomach bubbled at the thought of rain. A few dust specks littered the edges, and Tweek felt an urge to clean the entire kitchen.

Kenny swiveled around, and Tweek jumped; the sudden movement dragging him out of his thoughts. Though he couldn’t see his front, he knew that Kenny’s finger was out and pointing toward Craig. His shoulder were tense, and Tweek could see that the blonde hairs on the back of his neck were standing up.

“You _hurt_ him. You didn’t give a fuck about him, and now you think you can just ‘hang out’ like nothing’s happened?” His words were harsh, cutting into Tweek’s heart though they were meant for Craig’s. The black-haired teen narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees and bringing his hands to his chin.

“I… Hurt him.” It didn’t come out as a question. “Huh. You seem to know more than I do; I didn’t realize that I’d been bullying someone that I’ve _never_ talked to before. But thanks for the info.”

 _Never? Did he really forget about me?_ Tweek swallowed audibly and backed up, leaning himself against the refrigerator. His heart hurt.

“Really? Cause from what _I_ know, you seemed to have fucking deserted him and replaced him with popularity – along with your two lackeys. And then helped all the other kids torment him. And you mean to tell me that you _didn’t_ hurt him? Remember Stephen? Tweek sure as fuck does.”

Craig shot out of his chair and was on top of Kenny in a second, scaring Tweek half to death. The blonde let out a squeak and pushed off the fridge, jumping toward the two boys. Craig had Kenny pinned against the door to the pantry, his right arm across the blonde’s chest and the other on his shoulder. Kenny looked unfazed, and instead had what looked like a mocking gleam in his eye. This seemed to be exactly what he had wanted to happen.

_Shit. Now he can fight back._

“You don’t know _anything_. Don’t assume shit when you weren’t there. And don’t _ever_ talk about that jackass.” Craig’s voice was deeper than normal, and his tone was threatening. Tweek had never seen him that way before, and he stiffened in his place. A small blush rose on his cheeks as a sense of enticement pulled at his stomach. With everything that was going on, his emotions were a fucking wreck.

“All I know is that you hurt Tweek. That’s all I need to kick your ass.”

Tweek didn’t know who threw the first punch, or where it had connected, but the noise that it made was stomach-turning. Kenny was pulling Craig toward him while the other teen was pushing him off with his elbows. Grunts of anger mixed with garbled curse words strung through the air as the two bashed against each other.

“Fuck… You… Tucker!” Kenny’s fist bashed against Craig’s face, and the teen fell backwards, hitting his back against the counters. “S-stop!” Tweek squeaked, rushing forward and grabbing Craig’s arm. The boy was warm to the touch, and Tweek couldn’t tell if it was from anger or his natural body temperature. The look on his face suggested the former.

“I’ll… Kill you… McCormick.” He breathed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Tweek glanced down at his skin and noticed a few droplets of blood, causing his heart to stop. Craig was bleeding. And he looked _pissed_. As the teen lunged forward at the other, Tweek pushed himself in front of him; he was terrified of what he would do to Kenny.

As Craig pushed ahead, Tweek’s chest collided with his and the two knocked heads. His head slammed against the pavement below them, a sickening crackle filling his thoughts and causing his eyes to close as stars began to appear in his black vision. His shoulder blades dragged along the floor as the two flew forward, scrapping across the indentions in the slates and causing thick lines to swell over his skin. He swallowed and screamed at the same time, the noise coming out as a strangled cry. The blonde felt the other’s breath against his face as a large weight crushed against his ribs. The older teen was on top of him, breathing ragged against his ear and he felt a warmth in the lower pit of his stomach. His face went crimson as he realized how close the two were, and he couldn’t help but begin to shake. Suddenly, Craig was off of him and Tweek saw that Kenny was pulling the teen up by his jacket.

 _Don’t rip the fabric…_ Tweek thought in a daze, his head spinning slightly.

Kenny’s face was red and his arms were shaking as he yanked Craig away, attempting to throw the boy to the other side of the room. Unfortunately for him, Craig was taller, bigger, _and_ stronger. Kenny was hurled against the marble slabs, his back cracking against the stone. The smaller teen let out a yelp of pain, but pushed back against the other.

Tweek was still lying on the cold tile below, the bones of his spine pressing against the floor. He pushed himself up, his brain pulsing against his skull. The corners of his vision were black, and he struggled to keep his eyes open. “D-Don’t hurt him!” He yelped, not quite sure which boy he was talking to. He hardly remembered what was happening.

He planted his feet against the floor as he shakily pulled himself up, his knees almost giving out as he applied weight to them. _I feel like I’m about to pass out…_

As his vision cleared and his thoughts became coherent, he realized that a few minutes had passed. Craig and Kenny were pushing against each other, faces engulfed in a rage he had never seen either of them in before. Soft arms were around him and pulling him backwards, toward the living room and away from the action.

Butters was running past him and toward the two, yelling at them to stop though his words were muffled in Tweek’s ears. He assumed that Jimmy was the one that was guiding him, and his hunch was proven correct when a hand was on his chin and pulling his face away from the kitchen. A pair of worried, brown eyes were staring into his own, and Jimmy’s mouth was moving. “You… Going… Craig… Okay…”

_What?_

There was a huge crash to his right and his head whipped around, his neck struggling to keep his skull up. Butters was in between the two teens, his shirt ruffled and hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. Kenny was kneeling on the ground, one knee bent and the other underneath him as he was staring angrily at the two in front of him. Craig was standing stiffly beside Butters’ extended arm, one hand on his shoulder and the other pulled into a fist by his side. They were all three breathing heavy, and Tweek couldn’t remember if Butters had been involved in the fight or not.

Jimmy’s hands were pressing against his body, and he subconsciously flinched away when the boy hit a sensitive spot. He was still staring into the kitchen as his friend looked him over, his words faint in his ears. He assumed that he was only trying to reassure him, so Tweek didn’t attempt to pay much attention.

His blinking was slow, and sudden movements were almost lost on him, but he noticed when Craig threw his arms in the air and flipped off the teens in front of him. The boy spun around and rushed toward the living room, trying to hide his limp from the rest of the teens. Tweek noticed, however, and couldn’t help but feel worried about his possible injuries.

As he opened his mouth to say something – what, he didn’t know – Craig cut him off.

“Not your boyfriend, huh?” He muttered, eyes narrowed. Without waiting for a response, he walked past the two boys on the couch and pushed out the front door, slamming it behind him and making the walls shake as it closed. Jimmy gave him a confused look, but Tweek was too upset to blush.

 _What the_ fuck _just happened?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and sticking around
> 
> <3


	11. Concussions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He hadn't even been involved in the fight, and yet he had the worst injuries. Just Tweek's luck...

A cold compress was pressed against his pounding head, and his entire body ached. His spine twitched against the fabric of the couch, throbbing with every heartbeat. His throat was sore – probably from his yelling earlier – and he tasted blood in his mouth. _What if I’m bleeding internally in my skull?_

Tweek Tweak was dying. Or he felt like it, at least. He was more than likely just going to be physically exhausted for a few days, but he couldn’t help but act slightly overdramatic in regards to the situation. He had – technically - just been involved in a fight (though he had done absolutely nothing, and still somehow managed to get himself beat up), and it had been intense. Worse yet, the other two that were involved looked better than he did. Well, Kenny did; he hadn’t gotten a good look at Craig before the teen had run out the door.

That had been a few hours ago, and Tweek had been in and out of consciousness since. “Butters the Super Medic” was busy tending his “wounds” and pulling up every single article on injuries that ranged from simple concussions to brain hemorrhages – not helping Tweek relax in the slightest. Jimmy just flipped on the television, letting the blonde bustle back and forth between Kenny and Tweek, and began watching some comedy show. Tweek had a feeling that the brunette had put it on to ease the tension and get the two injured teens to relax, but he was too out of it to even focus.

Kenny, however, seemed to be fine. He was laughing and cracking jokes with Jimmy and trying to get Butters to smile. Every once in a while, he would glance over at Tweek, but the teen ignored his blue gaze. While things had been settled between the two, Tweek was now upset about the argument that had just recently gone down. The teen had had _no_ right to say anything to Craig, and while Tweek didn’t remember much of what was said, he knew that Kenny had managed to say something that really upset the raven-haired boy. Who had thrown the first punch? What had been the last word that was said? Hell, how did the fight even _end_?

Little bits of scenes flashed through his mind, but they were a jumbled mess of tangled bodies, screaming words, and quick movements. At one point, Kenny and Craig were on top of each other, then Butters was standing over him with a panicked look, and the next he was in the living room with Jimmy holding him against his chest. Somewhere near the end, Craig had run outside and Kenny was shouting after him, being forcefully held in the house by Butters’ weak grip.

“Ow!” Tweek gasped, jerking back into reality as Butters’ applied a third layer of Lanacane on his shoulder. He had managed to scratch it along the floor when he had fallen, and there was now a long, red line along the blade. Not too deep, but his friend wasn’t going to take any chances. Three applications was a little excessive, however. Tweek furrowed his brows and frowned. “Butters, p-please I’m f-“

“Hush, Tweeky. Don’t talk.”

_I’m not a baby…_

“D-dude, back o-off. He’s f-fine.” Jimmy muttered, not taking his eyes off the T.V. Butters huffed but pulled away, pulling his lips into a pout. “I just wanna make sure he’s okay, geez.”

As Butters’ left his side, Tweek slowly pulled himself up, sick of lying on his back. His spine was on fire, and he needed to _move_. He would love to go outside and go for a walk, but there was no way his friends would let him do that. But maybe they would let him lean against the couch instead of lie on it?

“Woah there, Tweek. Let’s take it easy.” Kenny said from across the room, jumping onto his feet and wincing. “Maybe you should-“

“No.” Tweek snapped, eyes narrowed. His friends stared at him in shock, and he blushed. Kenny was only trying to help; there was no reason to treat him meanly… “S-sorry. I just h-have a headache. I want to s-sit up.” He made the words come out softly, trying to reassure the others that everything – that he – was fine. It seemed to work, and they all nodded, awkwardly looking away from him as he struggled to fully sit up.

As he leaned his back against the couch, he felt his phone in the back of his pocket. Butterflies flew in his stomach as he began to wonder if Craig had sent him a message, and his hands shook as he scrambled to take it out. Much to his dismay, there wasn’t a single text, and he couldn’t help but frown. _I hope he’s okay…_

Without thinking, he began a new message to the boy.

_Craig, I’m so so so sorry. Are you okay?_

The little _whoosh_ of the sent text echoed in the room, but no body except Kenny seemed to notice. As the blonde looked at Tweek, he mouthed a question. “What was that?” Tweek only shook his head, and looked back down at his phone. No reply. He began a new one.

_Are you mad at me?_

His stomach pulled into knots as his nerves toyed with his thoughts. _Craig’s mad at me… He hates me. How are we going to do our project?_

“D-damn it, Kenny!” Tweek shouted. Butters gasped and jumped, knocking into Jimmy and dropping the remote on the floor. “Jesus, Tweek! What?” Butters asked, eyes wide. Jimmy grabbed for the device and muted the television, looking at his friends with annoyed eyes.

“Uh… Yes?” Kenny asked, obviously confused. Tweek was confused as well, but the words came out of him without control. “I w-was finally t-talking to him again, and e-everything was _fine_ and y-you had to _ruin_ it! Y-you beat _him_ u-up, and got _me_ hurt. Now he’s g-gone, and it’s all _your_ fault!” He couldn’t stop the rising blush that began appearing on his cheeks. He couldn’t tell if it was from anger or embarrassment, or both.

The four of them sat in silence for a few moments, none knowing what to say. Tweek swallowed, and looked down at his lap, feeling his phone buzz. He knew now would be a bad time to look at it, however, and he tried to stifle his anxious mind with the current situation. “I-I’m sorry…”

“I don't understand... He upset you for so long. He triggered your... Whatever the hell it is that you do." Tweek winced as Kenny's words became slightly harsher, slightly more angry. "He made you do it again just the other fucking day! You tell us all that he fucking ruined your life, and then the next day you ditch school - which you _never_ do by the way - and decide to invite him to hang out? Then when I ask him about it, he fucking denies ever hurting you. He says to our fucking faces that he didn't do a damned thing wrong! Hurts you again all over. And _I'm_ the problem?" 

Tweek didn't know what to say. He knew it didn't make sense. It was confusing the hell out of himself, but he still couldn't shake the nagging feeling in his gut. As if the past didn't have to change anything. That there was still a  _chance_ things to go back to the way it was before. That he would get his old best friend back. 

A few moments of silent passed.

"Why do you care so much about him?” Kenny asked softly, voice breaking.

Tweek jerked his eyes up to stare at his friend, worried about what he was thinking. Kenny only looked somewhat annoyed, however. Though he would rather him not be upset in any way, being annoyed was better than tears. “Because h-he was my b-best friend…”

“ _We’re_ your best friends now… He was a dick and left you. All of them did! So why do you _care_?” He sounded so hurt and confused, and it tugged at Tweek’s heart. He didn’t _know_ why he cared so much. He never got over his friends leaving him – and he still held onto the hope that they would come back and all be together again. It had been years, of course, but was it seriously so wrong to be hopeful? According to Kenny, yes.

“W-why do _you_ c-care about Stan, Kyle, a-and Cartman?” Tweek challenged.

The four of them had been friends since preschool, but when middle school came, they all kind of fell apart and joined their own clichés. They made it a point to see each other every now and then, but Kenny tried harder than the others. Kyle and Stan were still really close, and Cartman – for some reason – treated the three of them better than his current group of friends, but it was the teen in the orange hoodie that made it happen. For reasons that he refused to explain to his new group.

Jimmy held back a surprised chuckle and Butters audibly groaned, placing his hands over his face. “Fellers, can’t we just end this silly little fighting?”

“I…I… They…” Kenny’s words stumbled over each other and he tugged on the white fabric of his shirt. He clearly had no idea where his explanation was going.

“Were your b-best friends?” Tweek finished, tilting his head to the side and giving a small smirk. He was still annoyed, but he couldn’t help feeling the relief of the situation. Was he going to be able to convince Kenny of his attitude toward his old group? Probably not, but getting the other teen to question his anger was a good start.

“Alright, alright; I get it. But, _they_ didn’t hurt me – not like Craig, Clyde, and Token.”

“Nope, Cartman just constantly called you all names and the other two got you all involved in situations that affected the whole town every single day.” Butters chimed in, biting his lip to stop his rising blush. Jimmy laughed and slapped the smaller boy’s shoulder, scaring him and knocking the remote over again.

Kenny huffed and rolled his eyes. “What the fuck ever. I still say that they’re better than Craig and them. Besides, is it _so_ wrong that I care about this? I mean… They made you _cut_ , for Christs’ sake!” Butters scolded the teen for using the lord’s name, but nodded in agreement. The four of them went silent again, remembering the day before. Tweek grabbed his arms self-consciously and his thighs clenched. If they knew about this morning…

“Let me check your arms, Tweeky.” Butters said, standing up and walking toward him. He instinctively pulled away, and immediately gave him a reassuring look. “Th-they’re fine, Butters. Thanks.” The blonde only frowned but nodded, sitting back down beside Jimmy. The brunette stared at Tweek, his brown eyes turning darker. “You h-h-haven’t done a-anything since, r-right?”

Tweek shook his head, forcing a smile.

_You fucking liar._

“Th-they only made me cut a f-few times. I c-couldn’t stop.” Tweek explained, not wanting to go into full detail. There was no way he would tell his friends the entirety of what he felt and how he _deserved_ the cuts. How they helped him. How he _needed_ to cut to stay sane. They wouldn’t understand; they’d think he was a freak and push him away. So lying was the only other option.

Butters’ nodded, getting up and moving back toward Tweek. The boy sat beside him and placed a small hand on his leg. Tweek jumped and wondered if his friend _knew_ , but the blonde was staring at the others, not noticing Tweek’s nervousness. “I’ve read up on it.”

 _Of course you have…_ Tweek couldn’t help but think, annoyed. _He probably knows more about it than_ I _do_.

“I read online that it’s an ‘endorphin releasing mechanism that turns into an addiction over time’. He probably didn’t want to do it, but he couldn’t help himself.” Butters said, squeezing his thigh. _Butters, please, stop talking. And squeezing._

Jimmy nodded, pulling out his phone to no doubt add some bits of information that he looked up as well. “I r-r-read that it’s a ‘c-compulsion’, and we all k-know that T-Tweek has en-nough of those as it is. I d-don’t think C-Craig and them c-caused all of it.”

 _Maybe_ I _won’t have to convince Kenny. Butters and Jimmy will do it all for me._

“ _Okay_! I don’t want to hear about it anymore! The point is, they caused a _part_ of it, and if it wasn’t for them, Tweek wouldn’t have done it in the first place! So, I can’t forgive them for that.” Kenny snapped, breaking over the voices of the other two.

 _Maybe not_.

“I-I can.” Tweek whispered softly, looking down at his lap and curling closer against the couch. He winced as his spine hit a spring, and an ache spread throughout his back. “I can f-forgive them. I f-forgave them a long time ago.”

Kenny looked at his friend, eyes searching his face for any sign of a lie. Tweek knew that he wouldn’t find any; he _had_ forgiven the three boys a few years ago. He just hadn’t forgiven himself for causing their fallout. When the blonde couldn’t find any type of fault in his face, he only gave a small nod.

“Then it will take me that long to do the same.” He muttered, reaching down to grab the remote. He unmuted the TV and changed the channel, ignoring the three pairs of eyes staring at him. Eventually, the other two gave in and began watching the television with him, not wanting to start another argument. Tweek had a feeling that they were all exhausted after everything that this week had thrown at them. It was only Tuesday, and Tweek couldn’t wait for the weekend.

A small buzz came from his lap, and Tweek’s stomach clenched.

Craig texted him.

_No, I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at McCormick. Want to get together later and do our project?_

Tweek smiled and began messaging him back, his fingers moving faster than his thoughts.

_Of course! Where?_

He didn’t want to sound too excited and scare him off, but he couldn’t help the hopefulness that came out in his words. _Please don’t let Bebe be there…_

_I’m at Clyde’s now. I’ll probably be here all night. So does here sound good?_

Tweek’s smile faltered, and butterflies returned to his intestines.

_Clyde?_

He was already thinking of an excuse as to why he couldn’t go, when Craig texted him back.

_Yup, Donovan. Token’s here too. Is that a problem? I don’t really want to go to my house._

He could understand that, and before thinking, sent a message back.

_No, it’s fine. What time?_

There was no taking the text back. There was already a green check beside the message, indicating that it had been sent. A small notification beside it revealed that Craig had read it already and was starting to type back. _Shit_.

_8:30?_

Looking at the upper part of his screen, his clock told him that it was already 6:42. What was he going to tell his friends? It didn’t matter, he had already said he’d be there. Besides, he needed to work on his project. Kenny didn’t need to know.

He felt a pair of eyes on him, and he knew that Kenny was trying to get his attention again. He ignored him, however, and began typing away.

_Sounds great. Be there then._

Tweek Tweak had just made plans with _Craig Tucker_ , and was planning on meeting him at _Clyde Donovan’s_ house, where _Token Black_ was waiting. Holy. Fucking. Shit.

_This is going to suck ass._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> :)


	12. Nerves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clyde and Token are used to Craig having some type of story any time they see each other. But, this? Really?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Terribly sorry about not updating sooner! The holiday season is truly taking a toll on this (literally) poor girl - especially since I'm celebrating three different religions! Christianity for my family, Hanukkah for my best friend, and Wicca (Yuletide) for myself! Mix in gift buying, craft making, and constant shopping, you have a major recipe for exhaustion.
> 
> BUT, I could never forget about you guys, or my babies Tweek and Craig. So here I am with another chapter :)
> 
> Thank you for sticking around! :)
> 
> \----  
> Craig's POV

He was limping out the door in twelve seconds flat.

His black hair fell in strands along his forehead, covering parts of his eyes and stinging as they touched his irises. His shoulder blades were on fire, and the cold wind that pierced through his blue hoodie didn’t help his aching muscles. His entire body was stiff, bones popping with every move he took. “God _damn_ this hurts…” He muttered under his breath, wincing as his foot landed in a dent in the pavement.

He ignored McCormick’s shouts from behind him, holding his hand up and flipping him off without looking over his shoulder. He knew that there wouldn’t be another fight, and it didn’t matter what he said or did – the two were done with each other for the day. Whatever the hell had happened had finally finished, and now he was ready for a smoke and some sleep.

The teen reached into his back pocket of his jeans and felt around for the small box of cigarettes. A small sense of urgency was playing at his fingertips, but he relaxed as he felt the familiar rectangle shape beneath his hand. As he yanked the carton out, he grimaced at the logo – _Marlboro Blacks._ Definitely not his favorite type, but he didn’t have any money and his dad only smoked shitty kinds. The old man wouldn’t notice a pack missing; he bought a new one every day even if the “old” one hadn’t even been opened.

Though the sticks would taste bitter, Craig opened the top. He cursed as he saw that the cigarettes were bent to hell. Crumbles of tobacco clung along the paper walls of the carton, and there seemed to be only two out of the twenty that were salvageable. _They must have squished when Kenny landed on me…_

“Well God damn it!” He huffed, angrily pulling one out and shoving the pack back into his pocket. He pulled out the cheap yellow lighter that he’d somehow managed to keep alive for four years, and flicked the top until he saw a flame. The orange and yellow lights blew with the wind, aiming for the teen’s fingers and licking the tip of his thumb. The lighter and cigarette fell to the ground as he jumped in pain.

Of all places, the stick landed in a puddle of muddy water, and the teen felt like crying. Today was not his day. If Kenny hadn’t of been an absolute _dick_ for no reason, he’d had a perfectly fine pack of shitty cigarettes and he’d probably still be chilling out in a nice, warm home rather than walking in the cold ass air. The blonde was lucky that he didn’t get his ass kicked in – if Tweek hadn’t jumped in the way when he did, Craig was scared he might have hospitalized Kenny.

_Tweek._

He jerked to a stop, pausing in a stretch of neighborhood he recognized too well. The homes around him were middle class, not poor like McCormick’s, but also not cleaned up like his own. Electric cars littered the driveways of the houses, and the mailboxes were bright, pastel colors that caught your eye sooner than the actual buildings did. The area looked like it was trying too hard; as if the entire neighborhood had gotten plastic surgery to hide an almost unnoticeable flaw. He’d have felt scared if he hadn’t been to the place so many times. Now, he only felt mildly creeped out.

As he trudged toward a home in the center of the neighborhood, the teen couldn’t help but feel a tugging feeling in the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t place exactly what was wrong, but he also couldn’t get the small blonde out of his head. He didn’t remember much of the fight, but he knew that at one point Tweek had been involved. And he seemed to have taken the worse parts of it. Craig remembered as he was walking – limping – out of Butters’ home, he caught eyes with the blonde and what he had seen had almost made him stay: usual pale lips bruised red; baggy eyes a deeper shade of black; tiny splotches of blood along his cheeks and forehead; and even his insane hair had been messier than normal. The image had caused his stomach to sink, and thinking back to it now made the boy want to spin around and run back to make sure he was okay.

 _I did that to him…_ Kenny _did that to him._ A surge of anger washed over him, and he couldn’t stop his arm from suddenly jolting out beside him and punching the wooden post of the house. Pain shot through his left arm and traveled toward his shoulder, but he narrowed his eyes to force himself from wincing. If there was one good thing that Stephen had taught him, it was to not show when you were in pain. Instead, you bask in it and show no emotion; it catches the other person off guard and there’s less later on.

_Unless you fuck up again._

As he curled his fingers into a fist and knocked on the wooden door in front of him, a small scene flashed before his eyes. Six years, and he still saw Stephen when he closed his eyes. He could still remember the words that the other teen would use to get under his skin, and even thinking of them would make his blood turn cold.

As he waited for the door to open, he saw his former boyfriend hovering over him, fists clenched and a devious smile on his face. As he forced his eyes close as if to push the memory away, the images became more vivid behind his lids. His breathing stopped as he heard the echo of the older boy’s laugh, and the imaginary smell of the familiar Axe cologne caused his knees to weaken.

_“Look at you, Turkey.” His nickname for Craig – a mixture of his last name and being called stupid. Stephen told everyone that it was Craig’s favorite animal. They thought it was cute. “You’re shakin’, baby. What’s the matter? Think you’re gonna get hit?” Another deep rumble of laughter from the other teen, and his face blushed in embarrassment._

_How had this even escalated? They had been playing a stupid game. Stephen kept getting mad about losing, something about his K/D being messed up. He had looked at the scores of their team, and noticed that Craig was doing better than him. By a single kill._

_Craig had been stupid enough to comment on it. He couldn't even remember what he had said. It had to have been something along the lines of, "And I thought you were better than me." He hadn't meant anything by it; it was a playful comment, one that would encourage his boyfriend to try harder. Or, maybe even turn off the game and turn into a tickle fight with laughing and joking and sweet kisses._

_He should have seen the annoyance on his face, should have heard the anger in his voice. If he had been paying any fucking attention, he would have realized that Stephen needed reassurance right now - not teasing._

_He had this coming._

_“Come on, Stephen. Let’s go back to playing Call of Duty. We were having fun.” He knew not to beg. He also knew not to tell or demand – it had to be Stephen’s idea. He regretted the words before they came out of his mouth. He parted his lips to start over – he wanted to take it back and say that he wanted Stephen to show him how to play better, that his boyfriend was so much better at the game and that he loved watching him play. But it was too late._

_Stephen’s eyes narrowed and turned dark. “What, this isn’t fun either? Why can’t we just fucking talk? Why do we always have to be doing something?” He stepped closer, placing a hand on Craig’s small shoulder._ Don’t move. Don’t breathe. Don’t swallow. _A small squeeze and a smirk._

 _The brunette leaned down, his green eyes catching Craig’s icy blues. “Tough guy? I’ve taught you so well. But let’s see what else you’ve learned.”_ Shit. _Nails were suddenly digging into his bones, and the raven-haired teen let out a gasp. As Stephen’s knee connected with his stomach, his right shoulder was being forced down. The other teen wasn’t giving him a choice; the ground was the only place he could go. As he hit his knees against the carpet, Stephen brought his knuckles toward his face._

_It wasn't as hard as normal; just a rough brush along the jaw. A lesson._

_He winced and let out a small cry, knowing not to be loud._

_“Wrong.” Another hit to the face, and a slightly louder cry. “Still wrong. You didn’t flinch this time, but you got louder.” Fingers brushed against Craig’s face quicker this time, nails slicing against his flesh and threatening to cut into his cheeks. It was a silent hit, and the only noise that came from the movement was the_ whooshing _that his hand made against the air. “Third time’s the charm.” Stephen smiled, bending down to face Craig. The raven haired boy had a hand against his cheek, but held a straight face. He didn’t want Stephen to think that he had hurt him too bad, and he didn’t want to appear weak; the beating this time wasn’t the worst, and he knew that he wouldn’t have any bruises by tomorrow. He should be thankful._

_“Remember,” Stephen whispered, leaning closer and brushing his rough, chapped lips against Craig’s soft, warm ones, “I’m only helping you. You can’t be a baby. Letting others know when you're hurt only upsets them. You never know if they’ll be angry, sad, or annoyed. So it’s best to not show them anything. Right?”_

_Craig nodded, but thought better of his response, and verbally acknowledged what his boyfriend said. He didn’t feel like being taught another lesson. “R-right. Thank you, I’ll use that from now on.” He gave a little smile, forcing his eyes to wrinkle. On the inside, he felt dead._

_Stephen smiled back and pressed his lips against the boy, kissing his gently and sweetly for a few moments. These were the moments that he wanted all the time. The times when the real Stephen was back. When the anger was gone. The "lessons" were getting further apart, but the severity was increasing. Craig never knew what would set him off; sometimes they could tease all day long and end the day curling in bed together. Other times, a wrong look could turn into a day of fighting._

_Craig didn't know which was worse; dealing with Stephen, or dealing with his dad. Of course, with Stephen, he could get at least some type of love. And if he was with him, he could avoid being home with his biological monster. That, and if he suddenly decided that he liked his dad more and didn't want to be with Stephen, then the older boy would just fuck him over and send every picture/text message he could to his father. Then he would be literally dead._

_At least with Stephen there wasn't the chance of dying. He hoped._

_“I love you, sweetie. Want to play Modern Warfare now?” Before the other boy could reply, the brunette was sitting back down on his bed and had a controller in his hands, picking out the next map. Though it didn’t matter what he said, Craig nodded again._

_“Yeah, that sounds good. I love you too.”_

A small buzzing from his front pocket brought the teen back to reality. His chest was tight and tears threatened to spill from his eyes, but he calmly opened his messages and saw that it was Tweek who had just saved him from his memories.

_Craig, I’m so so so sorry. Are you okay?_

The teen bit his lip in confusion. What was the boy sorry about? It’s not like _he_ was the one that started the fight. Tweek was always weird like that; apologizing for everyone else as if the blame was all on him. More than likely, the blonde was probably close to having an anxiety attack and needed the reassurance from him. As Craig began typing back, the front door finally opened.

A broad brunette answered the door, shirtless, pant-less, and wearing only tidy-whities. A pair of uneven black socks clung to his feet and his hair was a mess, though his apathetic look probably had something to do with it. As he stood there in the doorway, he slowly raised his hand up to his mouth and took a large bite of bread smothered in peanut butter. “What the fuck do you want?” He muffled through bites.

“Clyde, what the fuck are you wearing?” Craig asked, not really caring about the answer. He pushed past the door and into the house, breathing in the warm air and throwing his backpack against the neon orange couch in the living room. “My fucking gaming clothes! Fallout 4 came out, remember? I’m having a session!” A nasally whine pushed into his last sentence and Craig winced at the sound. _This kid is more painful than McCormick could ever be._

“The fuck ever. Token here?” He asked, heading toward the kitchen and making himself something to eat. Clyde rolled his eyes but followed him, shoving the rest of his “sandwich” down his throat. “Nah, but he can be in 7.3 seconds.”

 _Where the hell did he get_ that _from?_

As if on cue, the door swung open. A black haired, dark skinned beauty (or that’s what he would call himself, at least) emerged in the home. “Hello, bitches!” An Xbox One console hung under one arm and a flat screen hung under the other. “Who’s ready for some Fallout?”

Craig raised an eyebrow at Clyde, but shrugged. He wasn’t going to complain if his friend was magic. Hell, they could win the lottery at that rate. Buy mansions and Lamborghinis and never pay for school again and –

“He was getting it out of his car.”

_Damn it._

“Woah woah woah. What the _hell_ happened to you?” Token asked, walking quickly over to Craig’s side and putting his – very – expensive items down carelessly. Craig flinched, though it wasn’t because of his friend’s hands suddenly on his face. “Did you get into a _fight_?”

The boy shrugged and walked over to the pantry, distracting himself with making his own sandwich. He felt his friends’ eyes on him the entire time as he walked from the fridge to the pantry and back to the table.

The dark teen’s eyes narrowed and he made a disapproving face. “Craig, answer me.” While he was showing concern, Clyde’s eyes widened and a smile began to grow on his tan face. “No way! Who was it? Tell me it was Cartman. Did you kick that fat bastard’s ass?” His voice grew more enthusiastic with each word and his feet began to bounce in excitement.

_Jesus, he’s like a hyperactive puppy._

Craig knew that there wasn’t a point in hiding it; they would dig and dig until _someone_ – not necessarily him – told them. “McCormick.” He muttered, not looking either in the eye. Clyde’s bouncing stopped.

“Uh, like _Kenny_ McCormick?” Token asked, brows furrowing. The three of them had just hung out with Stan, Kyle, Kenny, and Cartman a few days ago at Kenny’s party and everything had been fine. Hell, they had even played King’s Cup and poured beer into each other’s mouths that night. Why would they have gotten into a fight?

_Because he can’t handle that Tweek likes me more._

Woah. Where the fuck had _that_ come from? Craig clenched his teeth and stopped moving, not feeling hungry anymore. He really needed a smoke. _Fucking McCormick._

“Yeah. I was at Butters’ house and he showed up and –“

Clyde interrupted. “Butters’ Stotch? The ‘well gee fellers’ kid?” His impression of the sweet boy was shit, but depressingly spot on at the same time. Craig could see his friend’s holding back smiles, and he rolled his eyes. They all liked the kid, but they also liked making fun of how annoyingly nice he was to everyone. Sometimes, Craig was jealous that he couldn’t be that way to anyone.

“Dude, yes. Let me fucking tell the story.” He blinked and looked at his friends, waiting for another interruption. When they nodded and Clyde made a little “zip it, lock it, and put it in your pocket” gesture on his lips, he continued his story. “As I was _saying,_ I was at Butters’ house when McCormick showed up. He was all pissed off and upset for some reason, but I was upstairs playing games with Jimmy and Butters’. Oh, and Tweek was there too.” Token and Clyde’s mouths hung down in shock, but Craig continued on. “So I come downstairs to check on Tweek ‘cause it’s quiet, and the second I come down, McCormick jumps me. He starts asking me why the hell I’m there and how I have some nerve for showing my face in front of his. Then he punches me. So I punched him back. The end.”

Craig looked down at his sandwich and nonchalantly took a bite, waiting for the shock to wear off. It was Clyde who spoke first.

“Did you die?” He whispered.

The stupid question made the teen practically choke on his food, and he glared at the other boy. “ _What_?”

“More like, did _Kenny_ die?” Token interrupted, worry plastered among his face. “Seriously, do we need to hide a body? Or three? You didn’t kill the others, right?”

“Fucking _Tweek_? Like, Tweek Tweak? Like, Ducky?” Clyde spoke again, cutting off any chance for Craig to answer.

The three of them paused, smiling at their nickname for the younger boy; it was something that they came up with in elementary when they realized that ducklings were Tweek’s favorite animal. _“No, not ducks. Duck_ lings _.”_ He had said, crossing his arms and pouting.

“Relax. I didn’t kill anyone. Tweek would have been upset, and I don’t want to hurt him again.” The air went still with his words and the other two boys looked at their feet. An aching pain shot through his body, though he knew it wasn’t from the fight. His chest tightened as he remembered, and he desperately pushed the memory back down.

A small buzz from his pocket brought the three of them back to reality.

“Why didn’t you tell us that you were seeing him again?” Clyde asked quietly, suddenly serious. “I’ve really missed him. Is he okay? After he visited, I… Please tell me he’s okay.”

Craig nodded, still not looking up at his friends. He hated hearing them talk so solemnly – _especially_ when it was due to him. Leaving Tweek affected them all differently, but he knew that none of them got over it. They all missed him. They all still wanted to be with him. But they also knew that there was no way Tweek would want anything to do with them.

“Do you think he’d like to see us?” Token asked hopefully, though his face showed no sign of optimism. “Why are you two even talking?”

“We’re in psych together. We’re in the same group with Bebe, and so we’ve seen each other a little bit more this week. I wanted to take the advantage and start over. It was going fine until McCormick fucked it up.” Craig closed his eyes and brought his fingers to his temples, rubbing them to stop the upcoming headache.

“Do you still like him?” Clyde asked, and Craig’s eyes shot open. The other teen’s smile was slightly devious, though his eyes were genuine. Token was staring at him in expectance, and Craig bit the inside of his cheek to keep from blushing. “Why the fuck does it matter?”

“Over six years. Love develops after four months, you know. I wonder what six years would be…” Token’s voice trailed off, and he reached for his items on the counter. “I’m going to set these up.” As the dark skinned boy made his way upstairs, Clyde moved around him and closer to Craig. “You know,” He started, smiling, “Tweek could always come over. We’d love to see him again. And I’m sure you two need to work on your project. I don’t think you did much today.”

Craig knew what he was suggesting, but he was nervous. He never knew how to read Tweek. He didn’t even know if the blonde was okay with _him_. Would he be okay with the other two? He doubted that he would say yes if he invited him over, but Craig couldn’t say no to Clyde’s hopeful puppy-dog eyes.

He sighed defeated and Clyde squeaked with joy. “Sounds good! I’ll order some pizza and get everything ready!” The brunette ran up the stairs without a reply, and Craig pulled out his cell phone.

_Are you mad at me?_

His heart tugged as he read the words, and his fingers typed faster than his own thoughts.

_No, I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at McCormick. Want to get together later and do our project?_

Craig knew he was going to say “no”, and he braced himself for the rejection. He didn’t know why he wanted to see him again since they had just been together, but he also couldn’t deny the excitement that was rising in his stomach. _What if he says yes?_

On cue, Tweek’s new message arrived.

_Of course! Where?_

Tweek had actually agreed. And seemed… Excited? Craig paused, frowning. _He’s probably just excited to get the project over with._ He knew that his next text would either be ignored, or change Tweek’s mind. He took a deep breath and let his message fly.

_I’m at Clyde’s now. I’ll probably be here all night. So does here sound good?_

It probably didn’t sound good at all. Who would want to go see two people that had abandoned them? Craig was positive that the blonde hardly wanted to see him as it was, but grades were important to Tweek and he would do anything to keep it up. But Clyde? He wasn’t so sure… Token would be here too…

_Clyde?_

Yup. Craig knew it. He was expecting a rejection at any moment, and his fingers typed his next message slowly.

_Yup, Donovan. Token’s here too. Is that a problem? I don’t really want to go to my house._

Disappointment coursed through his veins as he felt himself go slightly numb. He shouldn’t have been so excited about it anyway… He actually would go to his home if Tweek wanted him too, which he didn’t understand; he _hated_ his house. Why would he actually _want_ to be there, especially if he meant he had to work on schoolwork?

As he began typing a message that would tell Tweek it was fine if he didn’t want to go there, he received a text that shocked him.

_No, it’s fine. What time?_

“Holy shit.” The words escaped his mouth without a thought, and he paused in shock for a few seconds. _Did Tweek really just agree to seeing him, Clyde,_ and _Token? All at once?_

It was then that Craig began to think about who else would be coming with the blonde. He prayed that it wouldn’t’ be McCormick, but he thought that even Kenny would know some type of boundaries. He didn’t think that Butters’ or Jimmy would show up, though he wouldn’t say anything if they did. Honestly, he wanted it to just be him and Tweek – he was fine if Clyde and Token weren’t there. He couldn’t stop the butterflies flapping excitedly in his belly.

_8:30?_

He looked at the clock to make sure it would be enough time. It was 6:41. He would have time to make a list of music and bands for Tweek to listen to, inform his friends on what to say and do, and get himself in decent apparel. It would be fine. He knew the time wouldn’t matter; Tweek never slept – much to his dismay. Maybe he would be able to help the poor at least take a nap tonight…

_Sounds great. Be there then._

It was a deal. They were going to see each other then. Why was Craig filled with so much anticipation? It wasn’t like it was a date, and it also wasn’t like the two were going to be doing anything life changing. They would literally be sitting there talking about homework until one of them got tired and passed out. It wasn’t a big deal. _So why does it feel like one?_

The teen mentally and verbally groaned, and he pushed himself off of the counter. He had taken only two bites of his sandwich, and he felt filled to the brim. His stomach clenched and his entire body ached – from nerves or the earlier fight, he wasn’t sure. He had a feeling it was the former, however, and he couldn’t help but feel slightly annoyed with himself. He didn’t know why he was acting this way, and he desperately didn’t want his friends – especially Tweek – to notice. Looking back at the clock, he saw that almost five minutes had passed.

“I’m going to take a shower.” He said to himself, as if to distract himself from what would be happening in less than two hours. As he made his way upstairs to the guest bathroom, he swallowed audibly.

_This is going to suck ass._


	13. Followed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why can't he ever be alone?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated this chapter as of 10/09/2017. I didn't like the way I had it played out, so I altered Tweek's flashback to something I felt was slightly more appropriate.

“C-can I go home n-now?” Tweek asked, bored beyond reason with their current situation. Butters sat next to him on the burgundy couch, legs propped up in Tweek’s lap. His fingers were tapping on his phone, clearly distracting him from whatever show Jimmy had playing in the background. Kenny was snoring quietly on the other couch, blonde hair covering his eyes from the TV’s light.

An audience laughter track broke through the otherwise quiet room, and Jimmy chuckled along with them. Tweek sighed and carefully pushed himself off the furniture. Comedy was great and all, but over an hour was enough for him. His head was pounding and his butt was sore from sitting on the old thing for so long. Either the couch squeaking or the sound of his struggle was enough for Jimmy to turn away from the television, and he stared at the blonde in shock. His mouth hung open dramatically to exaggerate his “hurt”.

“How could you leave in the _middle_ of his act? Louis C.K. is amazing!”

Tweek rolled his eyes and stood on his feet, grimacing at the weakness in his legs. His cuts were hurting his thighs, and the feeling was more painful than normal. His stomach sank as he realized that he had yet to clean them.

_Fuck! I was too busy with the guys… They’ll be infected. I’m going to have to amputate my legs. I’ll be even more of ‘Tweek the Freak’! How will we pay for the medical bills? We’ll have to sell the shop, and my parents will have to take care of me, and then…_

“I want to go h-home.” He said, voice slightly more urgent than before. “I’m bored.”

Jimmy paused the show and let out a loud gasp. “Take. That. Back.”

Tweek only laughed and shook his head, amused at how annoyed his friend was getting. “N-Never. I can barely stay awake, and I’m an i-i-insomniac.”

Jimmy grunted, flipped him off, and turned back around to unpause the TV. “F-Fucking leave.” Tweek nodded, unfazed. He knew that Jimmy wasn’t seriously upset with him, and even if he was he would be over it in an hour.

“You can’t just kick people out of my own house, Jim.” Butters muttered, eyes still not leaving his phone.

As Tweek turned to leave, though, Butters stood up. “Let me walk you home, Tweeky.” Tweek froze, and quickly the declined the offer. “W-What? No, th-that’s fine.” A nervous sound – a mix between a chuckle and groan – escaped his throat. Butters made a confused face. “I’d like the a-alone time, is all. Besides, it’s y-your house a-anyway.”

Tweek could tell that his words weren’t changing his mind, so he added half-jokingly, “Y-you really t-trust these guys a-alone in your h-house?”

Jimmy flipped him off again, not bothering to turn away from the show. Kenny gave a small snore again, his blonde hair moving with each breath. Butters cocked his eyebrow down, clearly not worried about the other teens. Tweek had been confident that Butters would agree, and if it had been any other time, he probably would have. However, his friends just _had_ to be acting good at the time when he needed them to not be.

“I’m going with you, Tweek. End of story. Let me grab a jacket.” With that, the boy disappeared before Tweek could say another word. He knew that there would be no point in arguing; he hadn’t used his nickname, and that meant business. Instead, Tweek just sighed and walked over to the kitchen, scoping the room to make sure that he wasn’t leaving anything.

The soft smell of cheesy macaroni wafted into his nostrils, and he leaned against the marble counters to keep from collapsing. At some point, Butters had made the comfort food as a way of helping everyone relax after the earlier fight. Each of the teens had helped themselves to two or three bowls (Butters had made a _lot_ ) – everyone except Tweek, of course. He had said that his head and jaw were still hurting from earlier, and didn’t want to strain himself eating. It wasn’t a complete lie, and his friends weren’t too worried about it as he had eaten Butters’ breakfast that morning. They assumed that he had eaten lunch at school, and didn’t bother asking as they knew nothing about his eating habits.

 _At least I still have_ that _secret…_

The smell was nauseating and the thought of eating such a fattening, rich, and _delicious_ dish actually made him sick to his stomach. There was no way that he deserved it – especially after today. Thankfully, it was already 7:40 PM and it was almost over. Well, maybe not over, but he would at least be at his house.

Oh wait. He had forgotten about Craig. He was going to see him at 8:30, along with Clyde and Token. _That_ thought was more sickening than the macaroni.

_Butters can’t take me… I won’t make it there on time if I walk home, wait for him to leave, and then head to Clyde’s. Fuuuuuuuck, how do I get out of it?_

Butters was downstairs right on time, and Tweek rattled his brain for an excuse.

“Y-you know, Butters, I-I actually want to go the l-long way. I don’t w-want you to walk all that w-way – “ Butters interrupted him by throwing a glare. “Come on, then. The sooner we leave, the less likely we’ll get there at midnight." The blonde turned around and headed toward the living room, opening the front door for the two.

“Hey, Kenny.”

Silence.

“Kenny.”

Soft snores.

“KENNY WAKE UP!”

The blonde jolted awake, his body thrusting forward in shock. “W-wha?” His blue eyes struggled to keep themselves open. His small arms shot out in front of his chest and tried to grab onto the sides of the couch, attempting to pull himself up.

"We're leaving, dude." Butters said, amused.

“Can I go?"

Tweek’s stomach churned at the question, but the sleepy tone in Kenny’s voice made him think that he wasn’t serious. Thankfully, Butters came to his rescue as he shook his head and simply said, “Nope, say ‘bye’, Sleepy.”

Kenny muttered a very groggy, “Bye, Sleepy...” before rolling onto his side to avoid the TV’s glaring light. As the two made their way toward the door though, Kenny frantically flopped back over to say something. “Wait!” His urgency made the two freeze, and Tweek begged the universe to keep Kenny on the couch.

Instead, the teen only reached underneath his head and grabbed his orange hoodie that he had been using as a pillow. He tossed it to the boys, though in his sleepy state it only landed about two feet away. “Don’t… Be cold…” Apparently that was the last of his strength, as Kenny immediately began snoring again.

Butters chuckled and picked up the jacket, handing it to Tweek and walking out the door.

“Bye!” Tweek said, but Jimmy only flipped him off again. The blonde rolled his eyes, but as the door shut behind him, he heard the brunette call out, “Love you, dicks!”

With the door closed behind him, Tweek turned toward the road and was greeted by a very intense stare. Butters’ look took Tweek by surprise, and he leaned against the wooden panel.

“Y-yes?”

“So where are we really going?” The question took him off guard, and Tweek began sputtering out a denial. His friend stopped him, however, and said, “You don’t want to go home, Tweeky. I don’t want you to go there, anyway. Besides, you wouldn’t act so weirdly if that was the case. So, where?”

Part of him absolutely hated how well Butters knew him, but a larger part felt relief in knowing that he had someone who would recognize his actions.

Right now, the former part was taking control. Instead of answering, Tweek made his way to the left – the opposite way of his house. Butters followed suit. Two minutes in, Tweek finally began to speak.

“So, don’t be mad…”

_What a great way to start…_

“Are you going to Craig’s?” Butters was really great at asking questions that made Tweek stop breathing.

Tweek only shook his head, and Butters let out a sigh of relief. It wouldn’t last long, though. Tweek cleared his throat and worked up the courage to tell him the real place he was heading.

“N-No, I’m going to C-Clyde’s. Clyde Donovan’s, where C-Craig is. Oh, and T-Token is there too. Token Black, that is.” Tweek could feel the other teen staring at him, but he refused to stop talking. “B-but we don’t know anyone else n-named Token, so I-I-I don’t know w-why I said his l-last name. Same with Clyde, b-because he’s the only – “

At this point, he was rambling, nervous about how Butters would react. He figured that if he continued talking, Butters wouldn’t – couldn’t – say anything. Unfortunately, Butters was able to cut him off and ruin his plan.

“Why do you like giving me chest pains?”

Tweek stopped walking. “W-what?”

“Why. Do you like. Giving me. Chest pains.” Butters said again, this time from right beside him. Tweek turned to face his friend, and couldn’t help but feel guilty at the upset look on his face.

“W-What’s wrong, Butters?”

Instead of answering, it was Butters that began walking. His small feet were dragged behind him as he put his hands in his jacket pockets. “I just… Why are you seeing them? I can’t fully understand why you’re seeing Craig, but I _definitely_ can’t understand the other two. Did they truly hurt you?”

Did Butters think that he had lied? The thought made his stomach sink. “O-of course they did!”

“Then why do you care so much about them?” Butters stopped walking and spun around, facing the teen. Only a streetlight lit the side of his face, but Tweek could see that he was upset. “Why are you seeing them? Craig is your partner, fine. But so is Bebe, and where is she? Clyde and Token aren’t your partners, and yet you’re seeing them… You’ve been acting weird since yesterday. What’s your deal?”

The words were overwhelming, and Tweek swallowed. “I.. I don’t… Th-they were my brothers… I l-loved them… It h-h-hurt when th-they left. I didn’t talk to them for s-so long… Then suddenly we’re p-partners. It’s a lot…”

He couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it was, but he knew that this wasn’t the only reason for the way he was acting.

Butters didn’t look convinced, but he nodded.

The two continued walking in silence, with Tweek leading the way. He never forgot how to get to any of their houses, and remembered walking there a few times even after they stopped talking. He shook off the memories, and closed his eyes, letting his mind lead the way.

A small scene played his mind, pulling at the strings of his heart.

 

 _It was 1 am on a Saturday, and Tweek was clearly not going to bed anytime soon. His body ached from earlier, but that didn’t stop him from limping out of his window and into the moonlight. His father had been angry about the sales, but what was he supposed to do? He was only 16, and sophomore year was supposedly the hardest in all of high school. He didn’t have time to handle the shop for an extra 3 hours; his project was due_ tomorrow.

_Instead of understanding, however, his father had screamed at him. At one point, his mother had joined in, but he couldn’t remember whose side she was on. If anything, she joined just to have a reason to yell. Either way, she was the cause of at least one bruise._

_A small breeze blew past him, causing goose bumps to appear on his arms, and he quickly tugged the sleeves of his hoodie down; December was really killing him this year. He didn’t want to think about earlier; he couldn’t bring himself to blame his parents for anything, especially when he was the one that began the spat in the first place. If he had just listened and continued working, they would still be at the house, and Tweek wouldn’t have over thirty new dents in his skin. He could have worked on his project now; he knew he wasn’t going to sleep anyway. Why had he been so adamant about it?_

_The argument had been a few hours earlier, and his parents quickly left the house to go to some motel to “patch things up”. He was told to make his own dinner, clean up the house, and make enough money by Monday to make up for the early closing. So it looked like the shop would be open on a Sunday._

_Of course, Tweek hadn’t made himself dinner. The scale told him he weighed two pounds heavier, so this week was all about fasting. That was probably why he felt so dizzy, but he didn’t care. He was going to continue on his journey, and a little exercise never hurt anyone.  
_

_As he made his way down the tree beside his window, he couldn’t help but look towards Craig’s house. His former friend was probably sleeping comfortably in his bed, or out at a party with friends, or sneaking a girl into his bedroom. Not like Tweek would know or be told anything, though. The two never acknowledged each other anymore._

_He shivered slightly, but he wasn’t quite sure if it was from memories or the cold. Either way, he walked toward his fence, climbing over and hopping down in less than ten seconds. Without thinking too much, he made his way toward the left, not heading anywhere in particular._

_The entire walk, Tweek fought back tears. If he had known that he was going to be such a baby, he wouldn’t have left the house. While no one was outside to see him, he still couldn’t help but blush as the salty liquid ran down his cheeks. He balled his right hand into a fist and brought it underneath his left sleeve, anger surging through his veins. He could taste how upset he was, and his eyes narrowed to avoid letting another tear slip._

What is wrong with you? _He thought, digging his nails into his arm. The pain was soothing, but couldn’t compare to slicing a knife on his skin. He had forgotten his at the house, but he didn’t want to walk all the way back already; he was already three neighborhoods down._

_As he looked around, he didn’t quite recognize where he was heading, but his feet didn’t seem to want to stop. He genuinely didn’t care where he was; if he was lost, there was always the possibility that he would die out here – away from people. The cold or hunger would make him pass out, and hopefully he would expire without too much pain. Nature would take him._

Because you’re too scared to do it yourself.

_He shivered again._

_It wasn’t until almost 30 minutes later did he realize that he was in Clyde’s neighborhood._

_Thinking back, Tweek realized that he would do this pretty often, actually; when they were friends before, they would go to either Clyde’s or Token’s house every other weekend. Craig’s dad never wanted a full house, and Tweek was too embarrassed to invite his friends over that often. Sadly, he would absentmindedly walk to his former friends’ houses almost every week – after four years one would think he would stop caring._

Why can’t you? _He asked himself, biting the inside of his lip. He knew the answer – he was too pathetic to let go of the past. After four years, Tweek was beginning to think that he wouldn’t ever get over his previous friendships._

 _He walked up to the porch steps and sat down on the stairs, sighing to himself and struggling to keep the sadness inside. He would remember the times when Craig, Token and he would run up those same steps and barge into the house, not caring about how loud they were or who was home. Instead of ever lecturing them, Clyde’s parents would only laugh and half-heartedly say, “Boys, calm down.” They would, in turn, shout back, “Yes,_ mom _!” and Tweek would smile to himself and thank whatever higher being that was out there for being able to call someone his mother._

 _For once, there was a light at the house on in the living room. It made sense, though; every other time Tweek had walked here, it had been around 3 or 4 AM, so maybe they were about to go to bed now. Tweek paused, however, a small sense of dread sneaking into his chest._ Clyde’s parents go to sleep at 10. Is he home?

_A familiar figure walking past the window confirmed that he was._

Shit! I can’t let him see me. _Tweek quickly scrambled up onto his feet, and began to sprint forward. The front door opened too quickly, however, and a deep voice cut through the silent air. “Tweek? Is that you?”_

 _The blonde froze in his spot, too scared to look behind him. If he didn’t answer, though, would he be shot? Would the cops be called? They were more than likely already on their way now to arrest him for being a stalker._ Fuck.

_“Erm, y-yes… Sorry, C-Clyde. I was just w-walking and needed a b-break.” The boy stared straight ahead, still not turning to face his former friend. The inside of his cheek was raw, and the taste of blood filled his mouth. He must have been biting himself to keep back the tears._

_"Why... Why don't you come in? I've actually been wanting to talk to you." The older boy's words scared him, and he silently begged Clyde to just go back inside and forget that he had even been here._

_"N-no, that's okay. Really. I already kn-know that I shouldn't b-b-be here."  His stuttering was getting worse with his nerves._

_"What? No! You_  should.  _A long time ago."_

_Tweek blinked, confused. What was he saying?_

_He turned to face the brunette._

_The pit of his stomach began to clench, threatening to spill whatever contents it had inside. What was Clyde getting at?_

_"W-what?" He whispered, looking at his feet. He was so terrified of the answer, that he began to shake._

_"Things are getting better, Tweek. Things aren't like how they were before. We can finally tell you -"_

_Of course things weren't like before. How the hell could they be? They had fucking left him._

_Anger surged throughout his core, and irrationalities played in his mind._

_"T-tell me what? That you're, you're sorry you hurt me? That you **feel** bad? D-Do you feel guilty?"  His words shocked Clyde, and very much shocked himself as well. He didn't realize he had held in so much bitterness, that he had even _felt  _bitterness._

_"No, no, well - yes. It's just, we - Tweek please. I'm trying to help you understand. We didn't-"_

_"First, let me h-help_ you  _understand. I-I didn't go on vacation in 8th grade. I was sent to rehab." He didn't know why he was telling him this; maybe he wanted to share it with someone, but a darker part of him felt like he wanted to hurt Clyde in the same way that he had felt before. If he knew what pain he had caused Tweek maybe..._

_"What? For what? Drugs?" Clyde asked, clearly confused at the sudden turn in conversation._

_Tweek scoffed and toed a small rock with his foot. "N-no, Clyde. Because I was... I-I... I was suicidal. And I almost did it."_

_"What?" The brunette gasped, stepping toward him. Tweek backed away slightly._

_"How the h-hell was I supposed to take being a-abandoned?" Tweek whispered, eyes starting to blur. He bit his bottom lip, willing the tears away._

_He really wasn't supposed to be telling him this. It wasn't called for **at all.** Clyde had no business knowing this, and Tweek had no right to put his attempted suicide on them. He was making him feel like utter shit for no reason, other than to make himself feel better. He was such a terrible person. How could he take it back?_

_"We didn't... I mean, we_ did.  _But, but not because you... Tweek, please just come in. I can explain. I-I can call the guys, they can help. Craig will-"_

_It felt like a shard of glass had stabbed him in the chest. Hearing Craig's name, thinking about him so much as talking to him. This was because Tweek couldn't keep his damn mouth shut. He should have just walked away. And he definitely shouldn't have shared something so personal. Everyone at school would know..._

_His throat began to tighten, and there was no way in hell he was going to start having a panic attack in front of Clyde._

_"B-Bye, Clyde." He whispered, starting to turn around. "P-please forget I told you anything. I-I shouldn't have told y-you."_

_"Ducky, please! Just let us see you, and talk to you." The nickname was too much. Whatever little control Tweek had before had melted away, and was replaced with a burning anger once more._

_"L-let you_ see _me? W-well, here I am. Talk? Wh-what about when I wanted t-to talk, huh? What a-about sixth through yesterday? What about wh-when I was alone in the shop, and w-was hoping one of you would come in? W-what about when Stephen was **beating me up**? " His voice was beginning to hitch. "I d-don't want to talk anymore... You-you had the chance to talk. And none of you did."_

_Clyde was sputtering behind him again, at a loss for words. Tweek only shook his head, looking down at his feet._

_"I-It's not your fault, C-Clyde. It's not theirs either. I-It's mine. I-I'm sorry for talking s-s-s-so much."_

_He really wasn't being fair to Clyde at all. He shouldn't have been yelling. Why was he such a shitty person?_

_He spun around, tears starting to fall down his cheeks. He heard Clyde take a few steps, and he didn't know whether or not he wanted him to be moving toward him or away. He definitely didn't want the boy to hear him crying, and he was too scared of what he would do if Clyde touched him. Before the other boy could say or do anything else, Tweek took off toward his house, letting the wind whistle in his ears and drown out whatever Clyde was calling out behind him._

I fucking hate myself so much,  _he thought as he struggled to catch his breath. As he made his way toward the fence of his home, he dug his fingernails into his arm to keep from looking up at Craig's house._

_I didn't deserve them then, and I definitely don't deserve them now. And I just ruined any chance of getting them back into my life._

_He didn't know whether or not to feel proud or ashamed of himself._

_Either way, though, he knew a knife that was going to be keeping him company that night._

 

“Tweeky?” Butters voice broke him out of his thoughts, and the boy rapidly blinked away the tears in his eyes.

“Y-yes?” He asked, looking behind him at his friend.

“We’re here. We’ve been here for a while. Are you alright?” Butters asked, worry in his eyes. He reached out a hand and put it on his shoulder, giving the smaller boy a tight squeeze. “We can walk back, if you want.”

Tweek only shook his head and wiped his eyes, taking deep breathes to work up the nerve to knock on the door. “I-I’m fine, really. Just haven’t been h-here in a while.” Butters nodded and leaned forward, giving Tweek a hug. “Take as long as you need.” He whispered into his ear.

Tweek nodded and gave a small squeeze back, thankful to have such a caring friend beside him. Maybe it was good that he had brought Butters along.

“Tweek? Butters?” A familiar voice spoke from behind them, and Tweek’s stomach filled with butterflies. Butters’ eyes darkened slightly, and Tweek couldn’t help but shiver.

“Yes, hello Craig.” The other blonde muttered, pulling away from Tweek. His voice was cheery, but to anyone that knew him well enough, you could tell that he was annoyed. His eyes held coldness in the bright blues, and the corner of his mouth twitched slightly. Despite how happy he sounded, Tweek actually stared at him with some small amount of fear for what he had planned.

“Mind if I join?”

_Fuck. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea..._


	14. Maybe It's Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friends are there to help you, even if you don't want to be doing any of this at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went back and edited a few chapters. There are a few changes such as rewriting some sentences to flow slightly better, or adding a few more paragraphs that I felt were justified after rereading the previous chapters.
> 
> The only MAJOR change, though, is Tweek's flashback in Ch. 13. Now, it is only between Clyde and Tweek - Craig isn't there. I promise, there's a very good reason for this, even if it doesn't make sense right now.
> 
> Thank you for sticking around :)

Craig Tucker stared at Tweek and Butters, both standing in front of him on the steps of Clyde's house. Both wearing completely different expressions, and yet both seeming to be filled with anxiety.

Butters hid it significantly better, wearing the same smile that always played on his lips. His eyes as bright blue as ever, and his posture hinting at nothing. If it weren't for the corner of his mouth twitching, Craig wouldn't have been able to tell if anything was out of the ordinary with the teen.

Tweek, however, looked fucking miserable. His hair didn't stand a chance at looking even remotely normal, and his arms were completely engulfed in the too-large sweater that he wore almost daily. His jeans, which looked like they were supposed to be skinny, were baggy around him and made him seem even smaller than he already was. The poor boy was looking everywhere but Craig's direction, and it was obvious that he was biting his bottom lip - hard.

Craig actually felt the urge to reach forward and touch him, as if to reassure him that it was okay. There wasn't a need to be nervous. There wasn't a reason to be so shaken. Thankfully, the rational part of his brain told him to keep his cool - _If you touch him right now, there's no telling what will happen. Butters may freak out on you like Kenny did, even though he wouldn't put up nearly as much as a fight, or even worse: Tweek may turn around and leave._

Craig managed to force a small smile, and simply said, "Sure. You can join us. We just ordered pizza. Come on in."

Butters walked in first, with Tweek quite a few steps behind. Craig's throat tightened, and he silently begged for his friends to pop up any second. He didn't want Tweek to feel any anxiety about this house, especially after his last encounter with Clyde.

_Shit. Shit. Shit. I completely forgot about that. Goddamn it, I shouldn't have fucking invited him here. I should have sucked it up and gone home. He's gonna bail any second. Clyde, please don't come out yet…_

"Butters! Tweek! Nice to see you!" Clyde shouted, pounding down the stairs. Token followed behind him, significantly quieter.

_I fucking hate you, Clyde._

"Haha, well howdy fellers. Nice to see you too. How've you been?" Butters responded, smiling. Clyde and Token nodded, trying to start a conversation and avoid any awkward silences. But from their tense sounding voices, it seemed like they really wanted to be talking to Tweek.

He did too.

His eyes never left the small boy.

Tweek was staring at his feet, quietly shuffling them back and forth. He clutched an orange sweatshirt - _fucking McCormick's_ \- to his chest, probably as a sense of security. Craig's stomach turned, and he couldn't tell if what he was feeling was anger.

He knew that it was part jealousy, though he didn't quite know what for; was it because Tweek had a new set of friends (much better than him) that made him feel safe, like the way he had once? Or was it something else? He remembered saying something about Kenny being his boyfriend while walking out of Butters' house earlier, though he couldn't exactly understand why he had said it.

Maybe it was because he was upset that Tweek's first actual relationship (if this was his first - who knew what all had happened since 6th grade?) was going significantly better than his own; Kenny seemed like a sweet, protective guy that would do anything for Tweek - even if he was an asshole about it. Or maybe it was that Tweek was so open about his relationship with another guy - something that Craig never had the luxury or certainty to be. He could hardly understand why any of those would warrant such a rude comment toward Tweek, though.

He shook his head, willing his thoughts away. He didn't want to think about any more bullshit.

By the time he realized that he had been staring at Tweek, the blonde had already looked up and was staring back at him.

Craig felt his cheeks get slightly hotter, and he coughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his head and looking away.

"So, um. Can we do this project?"

The first words out of his mouth, and they weren't anything of what he actually wanted to say. He really wanted to ask Butters to leave, to sit with Tweek and ask him about how everything had gone these past few years, to ask him about his last visit with Clyde, and how he wished he had been there to stop him from walking away. He wanted to say how much he wanted to take back all of those years he had spent with Stephen. He wanted to tell him about the abuse, and to have Tweek hold him instead of the other way around. He wanted to finally fucking tell him the goddamn truth about everything, and stop being the pussy he had been for years.

Instead, he asked about school.

Tweek nodded slowly, immediately looking back at his feet.

 _I fucked it up already._ He thought, mentally kicking himself.

Clyde and Token must have noticed, or at least Token had and dragged Clyde along with him, because they were standing by his side in a matter of seconds.

"Du-" Clyde started, but was instantaneously jabbed in the ribs by Token.

Craig felt his arm tense. He knew that it sounded innocent; Clyde was probably about to call him “dude”, or maybe even ask a question that started with the sound. He couldn’t help but shake off the feeling that Tweek’s old nickname was going to be used though.

Clyde was an idiot with these sort of things, and knowing him he would probably want to jump right back into old times to make Tweek feel more at home. Thankfully, Token had the same reaction as Craig and cut him off in time, though it seemed to have confused the blonde across the room.

"Tweek, it's good to see you." The dark skinned boy smiled.

"I-t's good, to s-see you too." Tweek smiled back, though it looked more forced than anything.

"How've you b-" Another jab in the ribs to Clyde.

 _Stop asking questions_ , Craig thought. _You’ll scare him away._ He shot his friend a warning look as an attempt to help him understand. The brunette just looked defeated.

"W-Why do you k-keep h-hitting him?" Tweek asked, eyebrow raised in confusion.

Craig chuckled without meaning to (Tweek was always so oblivious, and Craig couldn’t help but love the puzzlement in his voice), and immediately regretted it. He swallowed and looked at his friends, begging them to do something to end this awkwardness.

"W-well, I mean..." Token started, at a loss for an explanation.

"Quit acting like this. Just act normal, and this... Uncomfortableness will go away." Butters said, sounding slightly annoyed. It surprised Craig to hear Butters acting so direct. He couldn’t help but feel a mixture of annoyed and amused, half wanting Butters to leave, and half wanting him to stay to help distract the others from the uncertainty that was beginning to unravel among them.

“Alright, normal." Clyde started, eyes glimmering deviously. "Then, Token, Butters, want to go upstairs and watch me play Fallout? I just got the game and it’s fucking awesome!” Clyde said, smile widening. "Seriously, guys. Like, I can't begin to explain this beautiful work of art. Token tried to play with me, but he got too distracted in the fact that I'm a fucking pro at the game. Not gonna lie, it's probably the greatest thing that has ever happened in my room. Besides the first time I watched porn. That shit will stick with you."

 _This is his normal_ , Craig thought while rolling his eyes. It would leave him alone with Tweek, though. And that was enough.

“Wait, I thought there was a project-” Butters started, cheeks blushing and clearly not wanting to leave Tweek.

Surprisingly, it was Tweek that cut him off. “C-Craig’s the only one is my group, Butters. I-It’d be easier and f-faster if we just work on i-i-it, while you g-guys go upstairs.”

Craig wanted to laugh. He almost did.

He would have let Butters stay, honestly. But he couldn’t deny the fact that he was pretty thrilled with Tweek telling him to leave them alone. Even though he did it politer than Craig would have.

Clyde snorted and grabbed Butters’ arm, practically yanking him up the stairs with him all the while Butters shot Tweek shocked looks and mouthed words that Craig couldn’t make out. Token stayed behind, staring at the two.

“T-Token, I-” Tweek started, though it seemed like he didn’t really know what he wanted to say. He looked back at his feet, and another wave of awkwardness washed over the room.

“I’m leaving, Tweek. I am. But first… Craig has something he wants to - needs to - tell you. Something that we all want to tell you. But it’s Craig’s business more. I’m here to keep Clyde and Butters distracted. But you’re here to listen to Craig.”

Craig’s face went white, and his stomach turned. He seriously didn’t want to be hearing any of this - or thinking worse. He knew he should be thankful to his friend, for giving the duo a warning and practically telling them what they would be doing; not what they wanted to be doing. He just wished it hadn’t been so soon.

So much had happened, all because Mrs. Taylor decided to make them fucking partners. He could have requested a different partner, like he had in 7th grade when their health teacher wanted to make the two work on some liver drawing.

Stephen would have known though, and there was no way in hell he would put Tweek - and himself - through that.

 _Stephen is gone._ He reminded himself, and looked at Token. He gave the dark-skinned boy a nod, and slowly turned his gaze toward Tweek. The blonde looked exhausted. His eyes were slightly puffy, and he looked as though he had been crying - or was about to cry any second. His eyes were dull, as if all the energy had been sucked out. He couldn't help but feel guilty, wondering if he and his friends were the cause of Tweek's appearance.

He caught Craig off guard again, though, when he said, “A-Alright. Come on, Craig.”

He turned around and made his way to the dining table in the kitchen, clearly not forgetting the layout of Clyde’s house. Though Craig’s eyes never left the boy, he knew Token nodded beside him.

Before leaving, however, Token walked over to Tweek as the blonde set down his belongings on the table. Craig watched as the teen put a hand on the small boy’s shoulder and whisper something to him. Token gave him a squeeze while Tweek nodded, and Craig’s stomach turned once more.

Giving no indication of what was said, Token just walked toward Craig and did the same. He leaned forward and only said, “Just get this over with. If not for you or us, then definitely for him.”

Craig’s lips made a tight line, and he didn’t move for a few seconds. By that point, Token had already walked out of the kitchen and gone upstairs to join the other two.

 _Please, keep them distracted._ Craig mentally begged.

“C-Craig?” Tweek stuttered, looking at him sadly.

 _Goddamn it, Tweek._ He thought, chest beginning to hurt.

“Yes. Yeah. Um, okay. Yeah, let’s get started.” Craig nodded, walking over to the blonde.

As he made his way across from him, plopping down in his seat, he could feel the tension in the air. It was thick enough to press against his throat, and he swallowed audibly a few times.

 _You’re going to be fine,_ he reassured himself. He stared at the blonde, waiting for Tweek to make eye contact. The second he saw those emerald eyes, his chest began to tighten and the words began to spill from his lips.

“Tweek, there’s something you should know…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If my writing style is different or you're confused in any way, let me know! It's been a while since this was worked on, and I want it to continue to flow smoothly - even with the changes.
> 
> His flashback will be mentioned soon, and you'll understand why I changed it.
> 
> <3


	15. No More Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did Craig really just say that?

“Tweek, there’s something you should know…”

Though he seemed like he knew what he was going to say, Craig cut himself off. Tweek blinked, head slightly dizzy from the overwhelming sensations he was currently experiencing all at once. He could hardly account for the walk over to Clyde’s earlier with Butters, but once he stepped inside the house itself, it was almost as if he had been sucked out of his body and was watching bits of pieces of events unfold around him while he slipped in and out of unconsciousness.

He definitely didn’t remember talking, though from the tension in his jaw, he knew that he had moved it a few times - assuming that he had actually spoken, and not just panicked and/or screamed (the other guys would have mentioned it, right?). His knuckles were numb and white from squeezing them so hard, and his arms had laid stiff by his sides for the entire exchange between the teens. It was almost as if his body forgot that it was supposed to relax, and move around occasionally - as if he had died and slowly performing rigor mortis.

Part of him wished that he actually had died, though if that were true, this was an awful afterlife for him to experience.

 _Unless it’s Hell._ He thought, a dark grimace playing at his lips. _Maybe I had a heart attack on the way over, and Butters couldn’t save me. And now I’m forced to live through having awkward conversations with people that actually hate me. And once I get comfortable around them - BAM! It’ll all turns around and they reveal that they never really cared about me at all…_

He knew such ridiculous thoughts didn’t make any sense, and that none of this was Hell at all - but he couldn’t stop his mind from turning darker and darker by the second as more silence passed between him and Craig. He swallowed quietly and looked up at the raven-haired boy, begging him to be the first to speak.

Surprisingly, Craig had lost his cool. His usual apathy and detached personality was replaced with one of nervousness and agitation. Though he wasn’t usually as pale as Tweek, he currently looked as if he were made of porcelain, and part of Tweek was scared that he would shatter at any moment. Whatever he was wanting to tell the blonde, it was eating him up inside.

  
Tweek didn’t know if he was supposed to be nervous about whatever it was, but he was definitely beginning to feel nausea settling in the pit of his stomach. Maybe it would have been good to eat before coming, after all…

As if on cue, his stomach made a horrifying grumble beneath him. It sounded as if thunder had roared outside - or maybe it just sounded so loud because Tweek’s ears were hearing everything around them much more sharply than natural. Either way, Craig had definitely heard him. Tweek felt his cheeks begin to heat, and his eyes couldn’t help but react to the sudden embarrassment. Without meaning to, they started to blur.

Fortunately, this was something that seemed to calm Craig down, even if only slightly. Craig stood up quickly, his usual smirk returned to his lips. He rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand, and pointed behind Tweek with his right.

“We’re in the kitchen, you know. If you were hungry, you should have just asked.” The teen began to walk toward the kitchen counters, past the table and slightly slower past Tweek.

The blonde blushed even brighter.

“W-what? N-no! I’m not hungry… I’m…” He didn’t know what to say. He actually _was_ hungry - starving in fact. He couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten an actual meal, which meant that it had probably been over a week. He definitely couldn’t remember being able to eat much these past few days. He really didn’t want to be nauseated in front of Craig…

“R-really, Craig. I don’t feel like-”

Craig turned to face the blonde, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. He was already taller than Tweek while standing, but looked like an adult talking to a child while Tweek sat in his chair. It made him feel smaller, less in control of what was happening - though, to be honest, it didn’t look like Tweek had any control over any of this at all. It looked like Tweek wouldn't have much choice in the matter.

“Look, Tweek. We bought pizza, and Clyde even suggested that we get one all for you. He couldn’t remember what you liked, though… Token said it was probably still just pepperoni, but I went ahead and put pineapple on half because I thought I remembered hearing you say that you liked it. I can’t remember where though…” Craig stopped himself, looking embarrassed. He cleared his throat and spoke again. “And if you don’t, we have meat lovers and regular cheese. Come on, there’s plenty.”

Tweek’s chest clenched, and this time he definitely couldn’t stop his eyes from beginning to water. He swallowed a few times, digging his nails into his palm and squeezing his thighs together under the table. His breathing sped up slightly, and he begged himself to calm down. To just be normal and accept the offer, so the two could get back to what they were going to talk about before - or just ignore it and do their stupid project.

Instead, all Tweek could think was: _Token remembered my favorite pizza. And Craig knows my favorite topping. They still thought about me. Craig paid attention to me._

A single tear began to pool on the edge of Tweek’s right eye, and threatened to crawl down his cheek any second. He looked away from Craig and focused on the wall behind him. It was a sort of geranium red coat with small flecks of white in random spots - whether it was intentional or not, the white actually suited the cabinets and counters throughout the room. It was a warm color - one that Tweek could actually lose himself in if he tried.

Craig wouldn’t let him though. Instead, he heard the older boy say quietly, “You’re not being a burden, Tweek… We did it for you because we wanted to, not because you made us or we felt like we should.”

Tweek sucked in a small breath of air and force himself to look at Craig. The black haired boy was looking down at his feet, reminding Tweek of himself. The sight pulled at his heart, and he wanted nothing more than to reassure Craig that he truly did appreciate the gesture.

“I… It’s not th-that! I didn’t… You… I…” Tweek’s mouth stumbled over his words, and he could tell by Craig’s still raised eyebrow that he wasn’t making any sense. He took a deep breath in, trying to calm himself.

“Thank you, C-Craig… I’m happy that…” He was scared to finish his sentence for fear of making things more awkward. He didn’t want to weird Craig out, and he was also scared of seeming desperate and clingy and lonely and… like Tweek the Freak.

“Happy that we remembered?” Craig asked, voice still quiet.

 _He’s weirded out…_ Tweek thought sadly. He turned to face forward, away from Craig standing behind him and toward the closed, bay window directly across. He focused on the dark red curtains that it held, and attempted to count the number of tiles that lined the fixture. He got distracted when he heard Craig shuffling behind him.

Suddenly, the boy’s voice was coming from almost right beside his ear, and Tweek couldn’t help but jump slightly. “Tweek, we never forgot about you.”

A mixture of happiness, guilt, and confusion washed over the poor blonde in such an overwhelming way that Tweek had to steady himself on the table with his hands, even though he was still sitting. _They never forgot?_

Of course, his self-hatred quickly corrected his hopefulness.

_Duh, they didn’t forget. They were my friends for years, so they had to remember SOME things. Like pizza. That’s not an important thing to remember. Bet they don’t even remember my birthday._

He squeezed his eyes shut and begged his mind to shut up so he could enjoy this moment, but he couldn’t help but believe his own negativity. Did it really matter if they remembered something so small? It wouldn’t make sense to in the first place, but even if they did - so what? They still didn’t talk or interact with him for years.

“Tweek, we still kept tabs on you. Just because you didn’t see us, doesn’t mean that we stopped looking out for you.”

His lungs had stopped working. They were supposed to be helping him breathe - instead, it seemed as though they were suffocating him. At least, it felt like he wasn’t breathing - he knew he was taking in deep breaths, filling his chest with air through his mouth and pushing it out with his nose. His body was numb, however, and he couldn’t feel anything other than confusion and anger and sadness and happiness and more confusion.

At one point, he must have leaned over to steady himself on the side of the chair or table. Nothing caught him however, and the next second he felt himself falling slowly toward the floor, finally feeling light against the heavy air around him. Another moment later, Craig was kneeling in front of him with a worried look in his eyes, holding Tweek’s shoulders up with his too-big hands and his chest touching Tweek’s boney knees. He was asking him something - water, food, headache, something about why he felt that way probably - but Tweek wasn’t exactly making out his words.

“Tweek. Hey, hey look at me. Tweek, are you alright? Do you need me to lay you on the couch?”

Tweek had definitely heard the last part, and his cheeks blushed slightly at the thought of Craig being worried enough about his well being that he would offer to pick him up. He managed to snap himself out of his dizziness long enough to mumble a coherent, “no, I’m okay” before being swept up by Craig’s large arms and carried over to the living room.

At this point, Tweek’s face probably looked like a tomato, and he squeezed his eyes closed to avoid looking at Craig and making eye contact. The older boy didn’t seem to notice though, and he felt himself being carefully lowered onto a soft sofa, a pillow underneath his neck. Though he couldn’t see anything through his closed lids, he could feel Craig’s gaze from a few feet away. Slowly cracking open an eye, he saw the teen with what appeared to be panic spread across his face.

Before he could stop himself, he found the words falling off his lips. “I-I’m fine, Craig. Really. Just… A lot to take in. And I h-haven’t eaten in… A bit. And I’m t-tired. And… I’m a mess. Sorry…”

He saw Craig relax slightly, his face becoming more determined now than panicked. “I’m getting you pizza.”

“I don’t kn-know if-”

Craig turned around and walked out of the living room, disappearing into the kitchen to seemingly get Tweek some food.

Tweek only sighed and closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the pillow behind him and rubbing his temples with his fingers. This visit was going the exact opposite of what he wanted, and they hadn’t even started working on their project. If Butters came down and saw Tweek like this, he would probably insist that they leave. And then he might even tell the others about this, and they - especially Kenny - would be pissed.

Nothing would be solved, and there’d be even more confusion and tension in class the next day.

“Fucking Hell.” Tweek muttered, still rubbing his head.

“Honestly, I’m kind of surprised that you cuss so much.” He heard Craig chuckle and his eyes sprung open. The teen was standing back in front of him, holding a plate of pizza (four total slices; one for each type ordered) and a glass of water. Tweek bit his lip and gave a small, meek smile.

“Uh, y-yeah. All the time. I should p-probably tone it down.”

“Nah, I like it. Makes it less awkward.” Craig replied, handing the food to Tweek. The blonde sat up slowly, careful to not give himself a headrush. The delicious smell of the fat, greasy food made his stomach gurgle hungrily, and he couldn’t stop his mouth from starting to water. He licked his lips and looked away from the plate, begging himself to stay strong.

“Eat.” Craig demanded, eyes narrowed.

_If I don’t eat, he might know… I don’t want him to make a big deal about it. If I eat one slice now, then I can say I’m full or that I’m scared it will upset my stomach, and tell him I’ll eat more later. Then, I can walk home, do a couple of exercises to burn a bit, and then even walk around the neighborhood tonight to burn even-_

Craig’s voice, softer now, interrupted his thoughts. “If not for you, then for me. Please.”

A small feeling of bitterness bubbled under Tweek’s skin, making him want to ask what all Craig had done for him lately. But, he remembered that Craig was being sweeter than he had been in a long time, and that he should be thankful for this.

He nodded and took a bite of the pepperoni and pineapple pizza first, and almost choked with how delicious the stupid thing was. He could taste the gooey dough, melted layers of cheese, greasy pepperoni slices, and sweet, caramelized pineapple all in a single nibble. It tasted so fucking _amazing._ He somewhat wished that he didn’t care about everything that was in it. He wanted to be able to eat something so good and not worry about what he’d look like later, or how he would feel guilty for giving his undeserving body something so wonderful.

He was too hungry to care right now though; in just a few more bites, he finished the first piece of pizza and moved onto the next. The regular pepperoni wasn’t nearly as good without the pineapple, but it still made Tweek’s mouth explode with flavor. He managed to stop himself halfway through and put it down on his plate, hand almost shaking from the amount of sheer willpower it took to complete such a miniscule task.

“Th-thank you…” Tweek said, setting the plate down on a coffee table that was beside him. He slowly looked up to Craig, half expecting to see him look disgusted at how quickly he ate his food. Instead, he saw relief in the teen’s eyes.

“I’m happy you ate. Now: drink.” He reached his hand out, offering the water to Tweek.

This, Tweek happily accepted, knowing there wasn’t anything to be completely ashamed about in consuming. It would make his headache go away, fill his stomach up, and wash the taste out of his mouth so he would be able to stop craving the pizza again already. He practically downed the liquid in a matter of seconds, forgetting to breathe before and gasping for air after swallowing the last drop.

After finishing his cup, Tweek placed the glass next to his plate, trying to avoid looking at the food completely. Thankfully, Craig moving toward him and sitting next to him on the couch distracted Tweek enough to look away.

The two teens were facing each other now, sitting closer than they had in a long time. Craig was leaned against the left side of the couch, his back pressed against the armrest and his right leg curled underneath him. Tweek was leaning against the back of sofa sitting Indian style while twisted slightly to see Craig. Though they were still about a foot or two apart, Tweek felt like their faces were only inches away from each other.

Before he could stop himself, the words flew out of his mouth. “What d-do you mean ‘kept tabs’? W-why? For how l-long?”

He heard Craig swallow, though he didn’t see any movement come from the boy.

“Tweek,” He started, with a voice that made the blonde’s stomach sink in anxiety. “I liked Stephen.”

Tweek blinked, confused. That didn't answer his question in any way. What did that mean? Of course he liked Stephen; they all had - hence why they left him for the older boy.

“W-well yeah…” Tweek said, not quite sure where to continue. Craig cut him off.

“No, I mean… I _liked_ him. As in, crush.”

“ _Oh.”_ He said, without meaning too. His cheeks flushed, silly thoughts going through his head. _Is Craig… Gay? Has he always been? When did he find out? Did he ever look at me and think…_

He shook his head, scrunching up his shoulders to feel slightly smaller. He was embarrassed to have thought such a ridiculous thing. Instead, he focused on something else; the bitterness and anger he felt inside of him still.

“So… Y-you wanted to d-date him, and… Knew he didn’t l-like me. So you l-left me to make him l-like you?” This really didn’t make any sense. At all. Why would Craig throw away years of friendship over a silly crush? Especially if his crush was known to severely beat him - his best friend - up. Nothing was connecting in his brain.

“What? No! No, it wasn’t like that.” Craig looked lost, as if he wasn’t quite sure what he was wanting to say. Surprisingly, Tweek found a bolder voice within himself - the one that fed off his anger and took control of his thoughts, much like the night he had visited Clyde.

“Th-then, what? I deserve an e-explanation! I've spent t-too many years upset to continue not-knowing… Tell me, or I'm leaving.”

Craig, once again, was silent.

 _God damn it!_ Tweek thought, frustration beginning to ooze out of his pores. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to be teased and told only the beginning of the story. He wanted to know everything, because he felt like he deserved that much.

_Unless it’s all a lie, and he’s just playing with you. Maybe he likes to see you upset and frustrated. Maybe that’s why he didn’t want to change partners; this is all a game to him._

Tweek began to stand.

Craig’s arm whipped out, hand pushing down Tweek’s thigh as an attempt to make him stay. The cuts under his jeans stung sharply, and Tweek immediately sat down with a gasp. Craig’s hand hesitated for a second, before returning to his own body.

“Please, just listen…” He sounded close to tears.

This only angered Tweek more; _he_ should be the one that was crying. He was the one that had to deal with the torment and loneliness and depression for so many years. Why the hell was Craig upset?

His voice raised slightly, without his meaning to. “Then fucking s-say it already, asshole!”

That was it.

That was enough to snap Craig back into reality.

Less than a second later, Craig’s eyes had hardened and were looking deep into his own. The coldness in the icy blues was enough to suck Tweek’s breath out, and replace it with a small fear. He felt sure he was about to get kicked out, or beat up, or screamed at.

Instead, Craig’s words brought the world falling down.

  
“I didn't want to date him. I  _did_ fucking date him. For years. And he beat me the whole goddamned time. And he was going to hurt you and us if I did anything about it.”


	16. Warm Hugs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen is the fucking worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very very long flashback in this chapter. Hopefully you enjoy!
> 
> *Very strong, offensive language near the end

Silence.

How long had it been this quiet? A couple seconds, minutes, an hour? Why was nobody talking? Clearly a bombshell was just dropped; somebody had to have  _something_ to say about it? Tweek was clearly struggling to put his words together, and Craig couldn't help but feel the urge to vomit from anxiousness. He was hoping the blonde wouldn't be too harsh, but he had no idea how the teen would react to what Craig had just said.

What exactly  _had_ Craig said?

_I didn't want to date him. I did fucking date him. For years. And he beat me the whole goddamned time. And he was going to hurt you and us if I did anything about it._

Oh yeah.

Jesus, did he wish he could take it back. The atmosphere was thick with so many different emotions that Craig truly didn't know what he was feeling. He had never felt this tense and relaxed at the same time. On one hand, he was so incredibly happy that he was finally telling his former best friend the truth and normalcy could be achieved between them once more. On the other... The look on Tweek's face made Craig fear that he had made the biggest mistake of his life. Before he could say anything else, he heard Tweek speak.

"Wh-what do you mean, h-he  _beat_ you?" Tweek's whisper was harsh. The tone was what Craig expected, but the question was different. He honestly anticipated Tweek to ask him if he had really dated him, or for how long, or how it all had started. He thought Tweek would be so mad that he wouldn't care about what Stephen had done, or at least notice what Craig had said. Part of him had actually hoped he wouldn't care, because it would have been easier to pretend like it hadn't mattered. But the way Tweek sounded - the hurt behind his words - brought Craig's mind back to the start of it all.

"We... We met at soccer practice." He started, trying to piece all his memories back together. 

"I-I didn't ask that. I a-asked if he really  _beat you._ " Tweek interrupted, fists clenched in his lap. Craig felt a sudden desperation creeping into his voice. The familiar urge to defend Stephen bubbled in his stomach, and he wanted to say it wasn't exactly  _beating_ ; it wasn't as bad as it always sounded. His eyes met Tweek's and the urge was replaced with a deep hatred once more. "Yes." He said, feeling Tweek twitch beside him. "The asshole beat me. Almost daily. Because he was a controlling, manipulative freak. He's the reason why I - _we_ stopped talking to you." The coldness across Tweek's face made Craig's words come much faster. He didn't know what he wanted to say, or what he wanted to feel. He just wanted Tweek to  _understand._

 _"Please_ Tweek. I-"

"He beat you... Tell me everything..." Tweek whispered, head turning away from him and tearing their eyes apart. The blonde stared down at his lap, fists clenched tightly around the loose fabric on his thighs. He looked as though he was digging his nails into his legs, and Craig didn't quite understand why. Was he that angry?

He nodded at Tweek's request, and closed his eyes, deciding if he was going to spare Tweek all the nasty details. He swallowed audibly and decided against it, however, knowing that Tweek deserved the truth. "From the very beginning? Or..." 

Tweek never responded, so Craig just began as he had earlier. He cleared his throat, and started again.

"We met at soccer practice. Token and Clyde hadn't arrived, and we usually paired up in groups of three to practice drills. I think Clyde was sick or something, and Token was in one of those stupid after-school college prep classes or whatever. I don't know; all I know is that I usually had them in my group and that day the coach had decided to pair me up with Clark and Stephen. I complained about him, because I knew he was an asshole, and he was always saying shit about you. I didn't really know Clark, but I didn't like him either because he was friends with Stephen. The coach basically told me to 'fuck off', and I had to suck it up and practice with them because I was already in trouble for being late. 

"I didn't want to be more of a problem, so I just said 'okay' and played with them. Clark was fine, but Stephen was pissing me off. He kept egging me on and saying that I sucked, or that he was better than me. He was making me so mad that I didn't know if I was sweating from the workout, or from anger. We had to do some runs; practice getting the ball into the net before our partners could stop us. I remember sprinting to the other side of the field, him on my ass the whole time. He was testing me, kept trying to get the ball. Every time I think I'm getting away, his breath is back on my neck. I managed to lose Clark, but Stephen refused to give up. He's right next to me, then just says, 'Score it.' I kick the ball and make a fucking goal. My first fucking goal ever. Because of this asshole. I look at him and he's just smiling and sweating and he looks like he's  _proud_. I didn't know how to react, so I just jumped up and smiled and gave him a huge high five. Even Coach was impressed and I remember a few other people kind of cheering. It felt amazing.

"I didn't get much hell from Stephen after, and at the end of practice he just said his goodbyes to me and started to walk off with Clark. God, I wish I could go back and stop myself. I started the whole fucking thing. I wanted to thank him, or to say something. To ask why he had helped me when he could have easily took the ball and scored himself and made me look like an idiot. I called his name, and he turned around smiling - like he knew what I was going to ask. The look in his eyes was playful and I remember getting butterflies in my stomach. That was the moment that I thought that maybe this wasn't the same person that was so mean at school. I smiled back at him and simply asked, 'Why?' And his response was, 'Because I wanted you to believe in yourself. And you did.' Then he leaned forward and whispered in my ear, 'Besides, you're cute when you look so determined.'

"Then he invited me to hang out with him and Clark. I said yes because I was so overwhelmed with everything that had happened. I didn't know why he had called me cute, and at that point I hadn't even started to figure out myself... I didn't know what I, um,  _wanted._ Like, in a person..."

Craig stopped himself, clearing his throat and feeling a rising heat in his cheeks. He felt ashamed for still blushing at the memory, and he prayed that Tweek didn't see. He glanced up and saw the blonde still looking forward, jaw tight and a small muscle twitching in his cheek. Craig looked back down and swallowed again, continuing his story.

"Um, yeah. So, we hung out at Stephen's house. I don't remember what we did, but I remember having fun. Then I remember feeling bad about having fun. I remember texting all of you guys, but I never told you were I was. You wanted me to come over and help with something, but I said I was too tired from practice. You were so worried about me... You asked me if I had drank enough or if I had gotten hurt or if I had a concussion. I remember putting my phone down and looking at Stephen, and he was staring at me. He asked me about you; if we were friends, if you really were a... freak. I defended you, Tweek. You have to believe me. But I also told him that you were... Different. You were a worry-wart, and had anxiety and that's why you were always so twitchy. I asked him what all he did to you, because I didn't want to be friends with someone that was a bully. Especially to you. He told me that he never beat you up or anythi-"

Tweek snorted, shaking his head and clutching his jeans tighter. Craig felt him scoot a little further away from him, and desperation crept back into his voice as he continued.

"He told me that he had only ever picked on you, but it was never physical. I didn't believe him fully, so I told him that just because we were hanging out didn't mean that we were friends. I told him that if he laid a finger on you, I'd beat him up myself. He looked like he actually liked that response, and he told me, 'Now that I know how much he means to you, I won't talk to him again.' When I asked him why, he just smiled and said, 'Because I like you.' You have to understand... I was so young and no one had ever really  _liked_ me. Sure, plenty of girls flirted with me, but it wasn't what I wanted. I wanted someone who didn't know me as the 'popular' kid. I wanted someone new and exciting and someone to look at  _Craig_ and see  _Craig_ \- not the cool kid that didn't give a fuck about anything. It looked like that's how he saw me. And I saw him as more than a bully; I thought maybe there was a deeper part to him than others saw and he was only bullying to keep that part hidden. I thought I could change him.

"So when he asked me out... I immediately said 'yes', but I told him that he wasn't allowed to hurt you in anyway, or anyone else. He agreed. That's how it all started..."

Tweek was quiet for a second, and Craig wasn't exactly sure what he expected to hear. He was begging Tweek to yell at him, to tell him that he was to blame for everything. He wanted to be told that he ruined everything, and that he would never been forgiven and that Tweek was surprised that Token and Clyde had stayed with him for so long because they deserved better. He wanted to be told that he deserved everything that Stephen had done to him because he was stupid enough to start the whole damnned thing.

Instead, Tweek simply said, "Well, he lied to you. Because he still h-hurt me."

Craig nodded solemnly, opening and closing his mouth as he searched for what to say. Tweek interrupted his thoughts again with the question, "When did the a-abuse start?" The blonde's words hung with such sadness that Craig didn't know if he was crying or not.

"It was only a few months in. It started as small pinches, and they would be when we were playing games or having fun, so I never thought twice about them. Then they would happen when we weren't doing anything at all. Then he kind of give me small slaps on the legs, as if to get my attention. Anytime someone else was mentioned, he would get annoyed and angry. Then suddenly he was always angry. And he was always so scary when he was angry, because I never knew what he was going to say or do... And... And then..." Craig's voice began to break and his throat tightened, terrified of remembering any of the hurt that Stephen put him through.

Tweek, thankfully, noticed. "It's a-alright, Craig. I-I'm sorry for asking."

Craig nodded, embarrassed for not continuing. He wanted Tweek to know everything, because that's what he deserved. So why couldn't he tell him about the worst of it? Maybe because he wanted to spare his friend of such details about hearing so many others. Part of him thought it was because he didn't want to be pitied, however. 

"I-Is that why y-you stayed with h-him? Even th-though he hurt me?" Tweek's voice was so tired, and he seemed like all he wanted to do was leave and go home. Craig desperately didn't want that to happen. The raven-haired boy shook his head, and said, "I tried to break up with him once... And it was awful."

He looked down as he remembered, words spilling from his lips without him hearing a sound.

 

 

_It was the very beginning of 8th grade, a couple of days after the start of school. Craig was entering yet another year of middle school, only this year was so incredibly different than the last. This time, he was entering as the captain of the soccer team, a rising star amongst his peers, and he was considered one of the “older” kids now that he was in the last grade of the building. All the new and smaller students would be looking at him with awe, all the girls would be wishing to date him, and all the boys would be jealous of his growing popularity._

_The major difference, this year, would be that Stephen wouldn’t be in the same school. He was in high school, now, suffering through his freshman year with new teachers and harder classes. Craig hoped he would actually try this year, since he hadn’t throughout middle school at all._

_Another important difference pulled at the strings of Craig’s heart. This would be the second year without Tweek by his side. This would be another year without spending time with the nervous blonde, or hearing dumb conspiracies, or crying from laughter over things they couldn’t remember._

_Now that Stephen was in a different building, maybe Craig could actually talk to Tweek. It would only be able to be at school, but maybe that would be enough to save their friendship. It had only been a year since the two had stopped talking. Craig hoped that the incident in health last year hadn’t lingered in Tweek’s mind, though he had a feeling that it truly had hurt the blonde’s feelings._

_Craig looked around the hall he stood in, ignoring the bustle of other students and trying to find the person he truly wanted to see. Suddenly, a tuft of yellow hair stood out above the rest and the boy felt excitement bubble in his stomach. He couldn’t help the smile from creeping on his lips as he made his way forward, pushing slightly through the small crowd of students surrounding him._

_The blonde looked nervous as hell, and Craig moved faster. He wanted to make Tweek feel better about everything, to be next to him and reassure him that today would be fine. There was no reason for anxiety and nervousness. He arrived beside the boy, slightly breathless from the walk. “H-hey.” He said, voice shifting between excited and scared._

_Tweek looked up at him, eyebrow raised. He was clutching his books tightly to his chest, and he was wearing a baggy sweatshirt even though it was hot as hell outside in the August humidity. He was clutching the ends of his sweatshirt closer to his hands, as if he were freezing and didn’t want to uncover anything. Craig assumed it was from anxiety._

_Tweek must not have heard him, because he hadn’t said a word to him. He opened his mouth again, but was interrupted by Clyde and Token walking behind the blonde. “Hey man!” Craig looked down at Tweek again, but only saw a look of sadness on his face. He probably thought that Craig hadn’t even noticed him, only walked over to talk to his friends and the blonde had happened to be in the way. He wanted to make sure that Tweek knew he wasn’t being ignored, but the small boy quickly darted away towards class. Token and Clyde walked up, clearly not noticing the exchange from so far away. Craig didn’t want to go into any details, so they walked towards their classes, chatting amongst themselves while Craig continued thinking about their friend._

_The day was slow and easy, though his mind was preoccupied with the small blonde boy from earlier. He had plenty of classes with Token, Clyde, a few members from the soccer team, and plenty of girls that swooned over him when they thought he wasn’t looking. His teachers gave him huge smiles, congratulated him on his competitions during the summer, and made it clear that he could get away with things that others wouldn’t be able to (he pulled his phone out to check the time, and ended up playing on the internet while his math professor just laughed and rolled his eyes). He should have been feeling confident, happy, pleased with himself._

_Instead, he felt anxious and nervous. He really wanted to talk to Tweek. But he was also terrified about Stephen knowing - even if he lied about it, he would find out somehow. What would he do if he found out? Would he break up with him? Would he hurt him? Would he send pictures to his dad?_ Fuck. _He thought, head spinning._

_He brought his fingers to his forehead and rubbed his temples, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths to stop the dizziness. It was the end of the day, and he was supposed to be hurrying over to the high school to catch up with Stephen. He didn’t want to keep him waiting, and he wanted some type of comfort to get over what he was currently feeling. He wouldn’t tell him why he was feeling this way, just that he was upset. Stephen would probably suggest video games or cigarettes or alcohol or even sex. Craig hoped he would just suggest holding him and watching a movie, though he knew the chances of it were very slim. Stephen’s sweet moments had begun fleeting, but Craig refused to think too much of it._

_He must not have been paying too much attention to his whereabouts, because he was suddenly standing on the concrete outside the front of the high school, walking over to the bench to wait for his boyfriend. Stephen was already walking out the door, laughing with a group of guys and talking loudly about some “dumbass class”. Craig shuffled his feet and looked down, feeling embarrassed. He didn’t like the people Stephen hung out with; he always acted so cold when he was with them, and he seemed to pick on Craig more when they were around._

_“Ha ha, heeeeeey! It’s Turkey! What up, dude?” Stephen laughed, hardly looking at Craig. The raven-haired teen forced a smile, feeling slightly hurt at the nickname and the apathy that his boyfriend was treating him with. He knew that no one except Clark knew that Stephen was gay, and only he and Craig’s two best friends knew that they were dating. They had to put up the charade in public to keep from drawing suspicion. Craig swallowed his sadness._

_“Hey, Stephen. Want to come to my house later?” He tried to look Stephen in the eye to make the boy understand the urgency. Stephen refused to meet his though, and just shrugged nonchalantly. “Uh, yeah. Sure. I was going to hang with these guys for a bit though. Wanna join?”_

_Craig wanted desperately to tell him no and to say that he really just wanted to be alone with him. Instead, he knew the answer he was supposed to say. Stephen would be upset if he didn’t join the group. He knew it was because Stephen wanted Craig to have a bigger range of friends and go out more, but Craig couldn’t help but feel a small tug of doubt; he refused to believe it was because of his possessiveness and his need to know where Craig was at all moments._

_“Yeah, I can do that.” He smirked, eyes not matching his lips._

_The group of guys walked off toward the parking lot to hop in their cars. Craig didn’t quite know where they planned on going today, but he assumed it was toward the park in the center of town. They were always going there to smoke or drink after school, knowing that no one would catch them because of the numerous amount of other students surrounding them. Craig felt another wave of anxiety overcome him._

_His hunch was right and before he knew it, he, Stephen, and four other guys were huddled together in a small gazebo near the slides, lighting cigarettes and pulling small flasks out of their bags. Craig declined it all, though he was itching for a smoke. His nerves were acting up too much today, and he didn’t understand why Tweek was affecting him so much. He usually could look at the boy and force the emotions away._

_Maybe it was the way Tweek had looked at him; confused, no longer hopeful for any type of reconciliation. Smaller than usual, eyes slightly brighter even though he looked exhausted and significantly paler than before. He hadn’t noticed that those hazel eyes stood out so much compared to his other facial features, and Craig couldn’t help but remember more than he had seen earlier. He recalled Tweek biting the corner of his lip, pulling his sleeves over his hands more and clutching his books to his chest as if to keep a barrier between the two. Had he not wanted to see him?_

_The thought stung his heart and Craig looked down at his phone, wondering if he should text him. He felt a pair of eyes staring at him, and he suddenly remembered where he was. He looked up, seeing the guys laughing and slurring their words, leaning up against the edges of the gazebo and attempting to stand up straight. They were all having fun, except Stephen. The older boy was staring at Craig with a straight face, holding a beer in his left hand and a lit cigarette in the other. His eyes were slightly narrowed, as if he were accusing him of something._

_Immediately, Craig felt guilt and looked back down at his phone. He quickly typed a message to Stephen, hoping to ease his mind and avoid any type of confrontation later. “Just tired. I want to be alone with you…”_

_Stephen read the text and noticed, visibly relaxing though the look in his eyes didn’t entirely go away. Suddenly, Clark bounded up to the group, looking buzzed himself. The others greeted him loudly and Stephen punched his shoulder - his way of saying “hi”._

_“Duuuude, why’s you late?” A redhead - Eric? - asked, taking another sip of beer. Clark grabbed himself a can and leaned against the railing of the gazebo, popping open the alcohol and taking a quick swig. “Just took care of some asshole.”_

_“Ohhh shit. Who’d you get this time?” Stephen asked, eyes twinkling mischeviously. Craig felt his stomach turn, not liking when his boyfriend got this way. He liked violence more when he was consuming alcohol, and he really didn’t want to hear any details of a fight._

_“Give you a hint: ‘there’s gn-gn-gnomes in m-m-m-my u-underwear nngh!’” Clark laughed, giving another teen a highfive. Stephen stopped laughing for a second, quickly glancing over at Craig to see if he had heard._

_The world stopped, turning to ice around him as Craig felt a chill go down his spine. “T-Tweek?” He whispered, looking at Clark in horror. Clark looked at him, smiling. “Ha ha, look! Even Turkey’s imitating him. Not as good as me, but you’ll get there.”_

_“W-what did you_ do _to him?” He asked, not bothering to hide his anger. “You said you wouldn’t fucking touch him!” Clark blinked, suddenly realizing that he fucked up. He glanced over to Stephen, licking his lips nervously. “Uh, it wasn’t much. He ran into me outside, knocked my shit all over. So I… I went back and fucked up his locker. Threw his shit all on the ground, tore a notebook. I didn’t touch him.” As Clark finished, he seemed proud of himself for having not hurt Tweek - physically at least._

_Craig felt himself becoming angrier, arms shaking and legs starting to tense. He took deep breaths, willing himself to calm down and not make a scene. He looked Stephen straight in the eye, coldness clear on his face. “I’m leaving.” Without waiting for a response, he turned and sped-walked out of the gazebo, heading back to the middle school to see if Token was still in one of his after-school programs. He had to tell them about this._

_Stephen had fucking promised not to hurt Tweek if he stayed with him. That’s why they had stopped talking. That’s why Tweek was a virtual stranger to him now. That was a large part of why he was still with Stephen._

_A realization crossed his mind._

_He was with Stephen to protect himself, sure. But he was also with him to protect Tweek. And a part of him believed that Tweek was more important than himself. His dad could beat him, his sexuality could be revealed to the entire school, and he could be placed in foster care to get away from his abusive home (if he survived the initial beating) - but he couldn’t bear the idea of Tweek getting hurt. He had no idea what Stephen was capable of, and if he had no problem hurting Craig while he loved him… What the hell would he do to Tweek?_

_He didn’t want to be with Stephen. He could tell someone about the abuse and let everything unfold. They could get a restraining order. They could stop him. Tweek could be safe_ and _they could be friends. He could break up with Stephen._

_He stopped walking, stomach starting to clench at the thought. He felt like he was going to puke any second, and he had to lean over to stop himself from starting to heave. Stephen had followed him._

_“H-hey, baby. What’s wrong?” He asked, sounding slightly breathless._

_Craig spun around, eyes practically glowing with fury. "How_ dare _you! You told me you would hurt him if I wasn't with you. You promised you'd leave him alone if I stopped talking to him. I lost my best friend for you and your stupid promise. I should have known that you wouldn't keep it. I should have never agreed to you, you... You asshole! I can't believe you would do something like that to him! What else have you been doing, because I doubt that's it."_

 _Stephen narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms defensively. "Clark already said he didn't touch him. Tweek was the one that started it anyway. He shouldn't have knocked his shit down. He had it coming. And you didn't_ have _to say yes. You chose to because you wanted to be with me. You wanted to be with me, a total stranger, more than you wanted to be with your 'best friend'. Maybe if you weren't such a shitty person, you wouldn't be in this situation right now. Maybe if you were fucking smart, you would have told Tweek to stay away from us."_

 _Craig was livid, feeling so many different emotions at once - anger, sadness, guilt. Stephen was right - he left Tweek for Stephen because he wanted a relationship. He shook his head, refusing to be manipulated._ Stephen was going to hurt us if I didn't. _He reminded himself, holding onto his anger before giving into Stephen's lies._

_"Quit pretending like you care. You only feel bad because he's alone. That's his choice - he's a fucking freak and he was holding you back anyway. If it was anyone else, you wouldn't have cared. You just feel like it's your responsibility because you want to feel better about yourself for leaving him. But face it. You're selfish and didn't care about what he wanted. You chose me because you're narcissistic and you wanted to have a relationship. You wanted someone to love you. You wanted to feel special. You knew what you were getting into. And you still fucking said 'yes' and dropped him like that." Stephen snapped his fingers, causing Craig to flinch. "You want someone to be mad at? Be mad at yourself."_

_Craig clenched his fists together, biting his lip hard enough to taste blood. He didn't know what he wanted to say, or how to fix this. Fear was bubbling inside of him - the two had never had an actual screaming match like this. He wasn't being beaten, and he was starting to realize that he preferred that; there was a pattern and Craig knew what was coming and when. He was prepared for those. He was completely lost right now._

_"I fucking saw how weird you've been acting. You were staring at your phone. You think I don't know what that means? You've been talking to him, haven't you?" Stephen didn't sound like himself - his voice was deeper, almost like a growl. Craig shivered, quickly sputtering out an excuse. "N-no, Stephen. You know I wouldn't do that to you-"_

_Stephen cut him off. "Do I? Because I_ thought _that I knew you wouldn't ever raise your fucking voice at me. But look where we are. It makes sense. That's why you're so upset, isn't it? You're fucking him behind my back!" The accusation shocked Craig, and he didn't know what to say. How could the older boy think that? He wasn't even talking to the blonde. He had to know that. Craig felt his mind being manipulated, but only a small part of him truly understood. He felt confused and scared and angry. He didn't want Stephen to be so angry. He didn't want Tweek to be hurt. He didn't want to be hurt. He didn't want to break up._

 _"I'm_ glad  _Clark fucked with his locker. He should have beat the freak right out of him." Stephen growled._

I hate him. I want to break up, right fucking now. _Craig thought, anger pouring back into his veins. He could feel the blood under his arms pulsing faster than it ever had, and he was scared he would do something he regretted. He clutched his fists tightly against his hips._

_"Fuck. You." He spat, vision turning red. "We're through."_

_Stephen's face fell, anger dissolving into panic. "N-no, we're not. Craig. Stop. I didn't-"_

_Craig spun around and sprinted toward the school, knowing that Stephen wouldn't follow him. He had noticed the guys at the gazebo walking closer toward them, and he wouldn't want to embarrass himself in front of them. Angry tears stung in his eyes, and he furiously wiped them away with the back of his hand. He was in the middle school in seconds, running toward the only lit classroom in the building._

_Token was there alone, doing some type of extra credit homework while the teacher napped at his desk. "Token!" He practically shouted, breathless and panting heavily. Token jumped and turned around, eyes filled with annoyance. "What!" When he saw the shape his friend was in, his face quickly changed into one of concern. "What?" He asked, slightly quieter. He glanced at the teacher sleeping soundly across the room, and hopped out of his seat to meet Craig in the hallway._

_"Dude, are you okay?"_

_Craig told him everything in detail, stumbling over his words and attempting to hold back his tears. Token stared at him in shock, hand against his open mouth. "We have to tell someone. Now, Craig. This is serious." He started pulling out his phone, and Craig quickly grabbed at it. "W-who are you calling?" He asked, terrified of the answer. He begged for it to not be the police; the situation did_ not  _call for something that extreme. Did it?_

_Token only shook his head and let the phone ring, waiting for the mystery person on the other end to answer. "Hey, Clyde. I need you to come over to my house right fucking now. It's Craig." Craig gave an audible sigh of relief, happy that no authorities were going to be dragged into his life yet. After Token gathered his items and said an excuse to the sleepy teacher, the two started toward Token's house - Craig looking over his shoulder for Stephen and/or Clark. They made it to his mansion safely, with Clyde waiting outside for the two. The brown-haired boy ran to the duo, wrapping his arms around Craig in concern. "What happened?"_

_Once inside, Craig relayed the information again, head hurting from the array of emotions he was still feeling. Part of him was actually happy - he had actually broken up with Stephen. He was free. Almost._

_His friends were talking, debating on what they wanted to do. They suggested talking to him themselves, or bringing a counselor or a parent or even an officer into the situation. Craig's stomach twisted, terrified of what Stephen would do to them if this happened. "I-I think I need to get a restraining order against him." His friends looked at him questioningly, eyebrows raised. They didn't know exactly what Stephen was capable of. They knew he was controlling, and that he threatened to hurt Tweek if they didn't leave him alone. But they didn't know about the pictures, and they certainly didn't know the extent of the abuse. They only knew of a few instances where Stephen had slapped or pinched him. They didn't know about the bruises._

_"Look, I know he's crazy. But I don't think he's crazy enough to hurt anyone if he get an adult involved. He might be controlling and want you to stay with him, but I don't think he'd do anything to make that happen-" Token started, speaking carefully as if to not worry Craig anymore than he already was._

_"He hurts me." Craig whispered, arms curling around his curdling stomach. "And I mean badly. He's almost broken my arm before, all because I forgot to tell him where I was." His friends were too shocked to speak, so Craig continued. He started at the beginning, trying not to draw it out. He was quick with his examples, only saying the worst ones so they would know what they were dealing with. He had to force himself to stop thinking of defending him. Part of him wanted to mention the good times, and say that they outweighed the bad. But then an image of Tweek popped into his head, and he quickly finished with the pictures that Stephen took and threatened to send to his dad._

_"I'll fucking kill him." Clyde growled, uncharacteristically serious. His voice sounded scary; Craig had never heard him truly angry before. Token nodded, eyes dark. "I'm calling 911. Blackmail is illegal. And so is fucking abuse. Verbal is one thing; that's hard to prove. But physical? We can show that he's hurt you. And he'll never fucking touch you or anyone ever again."  
_

_Craig nodded, though he was still scared. "Can we please wait until tomorrow? I want to go home... And I want to see Tweek." He hugged his stomach tighter. His friends were silent for a second, then Token nodded slowly. "Y-yeah, we can do that. It gives me time to look into it. But tomorrow we're going to talk to them." Craig smiled thankfully, hugging his friends tightly. He wanted to leave and immediately head over to Tweek's. To tell him absolutely everything. And he wanted it to be just the two of them again._

_When they offered to walk him home, Craig just shook his head. Though they seemed worried, they must have known that he wanted to be alone with Tweek._

_He was in his neighborhood in a matter of minutes, walking quickly to the row of houses on his street. He passed his, heading toward Tweek's before the nervousness stopped him. His throat was dry, his legs were beginning to shake, and he couldn't tell if it was sweat or tears that were blurring his eyes. As he arrived on Tweek's lawn, he heard an angry voice call out to him._

_"Craig Tucker! Get your ass in this house right now!" The booming voice of his dad sounded like thunder, and Craig felt his soul leave his body._ Not now, Dad. Please! _He begged, though he knew that if he didn't go home, he'd have more bruises than he already did._

_"Y-yeah, Dad?" He asked, attempting to sound casual as he strolled through the front door. He dropped his bag on the floor near the coatrack, acting as if he didn't care. If he showed nervousness, his dad would just egg it on for the fun of it. His dad narrowed his eyes and said, "So, your friend Stephen stopped by earlier."_

_Craig's heart stopped. Was Stephen there now? What had he told his dad? What the fuck was about to happen?_

_The teen couldn't help but show a look of panic, making his dad even more suspicious._

_"We had an interesting conversation, Stephen and I."_

_"H-how so?" Craig swallowed._

_"Why were you going to Tweek's house?"_

_The question startled him, and he wasn't quite sure where the conversation was going. "U-um, I just wanted to hang out with him. Like old times."_

_His dad's jaw was tight. "Old times. Those were a year or two ago, right? I wonder what happened to change that... So you'd say you two were, what, getting back together?"_

_He had phrased it weirdly. Craig was too nervous to understand his meaning. He only nodded, confused. What a terrible mistake he had made._

_In a matter of seconds, he was pinned against the front door. His head slammed against the glass, resulting in a loud crackling sound - Craig wasn't sure if it was from his skull or if he had shattered the pane. The door knob jabbed into his spine, popping a few bones as he was pressed closer. His dad's hands were gripping the collar of his shirt, close enough to his neck that he struggled to breathe. "D-dad?" He started, throat tightening._

_"I'm not raising some faggot, Craig. Stephen told me exactly what happened between you two. That freak next door confused you. He got you to date him. If Stephen wasn't there to save you from that twink, you'd be some goddamned fairy fucking every guy you saw. Just because Stephen's in a different school doesn't mean you need to be talking to that devil again. I swear to God if I see him anywhere near you, I'll kill him my damn self." The words were spat with such malice that Craig had to choke back a sob. He was shaking, chest so constricted that he was beginning to see black spots. He realized that his dad had slowly been rising his hands to his throat, squeezing a little tighter with each word spoken._

_"P-please-" His plea was cut off by a knee to the stomach, causing him to double over in pain. He was about to puke, but his dad yanked him back up by his hair. He forced his son to look at him in the eye; they were practically red with anger, and Craig felt himself go cold. He had never seen his dad this angry. He was suddenly terrified for his life. If he didn't convince his dad right now, he honestly didn't know what would happen._

_"Don't." Punch to the stomach. "Defend." A slap to the face. "Yourself." His dad released his hair and pushed him down. "Explain." His dad placed a boot on Craig's leg, pushing down slightly. "Instead." Craig cried out as more pressure was forced against his limb._

_"Are you a fucking faggot?" His dad practically screamed, clenching a fist and showing Craig his white knuckles._

_Craig shook his head, then thought better. "No!" He shouted back, begging for his dad to calm down. Instead, he received a punch to the face. His vision blurred, stars twinkling against the black spots. He felt liquid trickle down his face, and he was sure that his nose was broken. He couldn't feel anything other than his heart racing._

_"Say it!" His dad said, winding back his fist._

_"I-I'm not a fucking faggot!" He begged, hating himself for being so weak. He wanted to fight back, to tell his dad that he was gay and that he would fuck as many guys as he could just to spite him. Instead, he was cowering in front of the bigger man, giving him what he wanted. His dad smirked, eyes still glowering. Craig swallowed, then spoke again, trying to make the situation better. "I'm not gay, Dad. I p-promise. I was going over to Tweek's to tell him to fuck off. I'm s-sorry I lied."_

_The explanation seemed to satisfy the man for now, because he gave a rough grunt before walking over to the couch in the living room. "Get the fuck up."_

_Craig wobbled to his knees before pushing himself up to standing, ignoring the waves of pain that crashed against him. Liquid was still trickling down his face, dripping onto the floor below. He felt blood crawl down his throat and he coughed, trying not to choke on it. He didn't bother looking at his father. He knew that there would be no apologies; his dad would act like nothing happened, and even look at him with innocent shock if Craig even suggested that he had hurt him. He shook his head, feeling his brain rattle against his skull. Soccer never gave him a concussion, though his dad did easily. He slowly made his way upstairs, only to be stopped by his dad muttering, "Keep that Stephen around. He's a loyal friend; those are hard to come by."_

_Craig's stomach twisted, but he continued his way upstairs toward his bedroom, quietly shutting and locking the door behind him. He leaned against the door, sliding down until he was sitting on the ground. Silent sobs began to flow out of his body, though he begged himself to stop. He touched his nose and winced, though it didn't hurt nearly as much as earlier. Thankfully, it wasn't broken. It would just be bruised. He pinched the bridge of his nose to stop the bleeding, but his shaking cries made it difficult to breathe. His phone buzzed and he looked down, seeing a text from Stephen._

_"I don't want to break up. I told you I would tell your dad. Fuck up again, and he'll see the pictures 'Tweek' took of you. And there are so, so many..."_

_Craig let himself cry louder, biting the hem of his shirt to keep from screaming. "Please let me go..." He begged, listening to the swoosh of the sending text._

_A response came immediately. "Never. I love you too much for that. Can we go back to normal?"_

_Craig began texting Clyde and Token in a group chat, frantically explaining what had happened. As he waited for their responses, Stephen texted again._

_"Baby? I miss you. I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't want to tell your dad. But I was so scared of losing you. Please, can we go back to normal?"_

_Token texted back, though his words weren't reassuring at all. "Craig... I really don't know what to do. You have two people that are capable of really hurting you and others. If we fight back, they might not stop. I don't see Stephen letting you go. I see him doing anything to keep you. Even if it means killing someone. We're going to the police. We have to, at this point. No matter what happens."_

What? No, Stephen would never do that...  _He thought, though he found himself questioning if that were true. Stephen just made his own father beat the shit out of him, and didn't seem to care. He had just threatened to make it worse with photos. If he was okay with what his dad was doing, what was he capable of himself? His blood turned cold as he realized the severity of the situation. He was dating a fucking psycho._

_"Like Tweek?" Clyde responded, asking the question that Craig truly wanted to know though he slightly hated his friend for even suggesting it._

_"Possibly. If he thinks Tweek is stealing Craig away. Right now, he sounds too jealous and irrational. I'm looking at the county website now for info. But I don't know what exactly they can do, or how long it would take. Your dad said he would kill Tweek if he needed to... I really don't want to believe it, but if it's true... Tweek is small. He's nothing like the neighbor that he put in the hospital. He wouldn't stand a chance. I'm scared, Craig." Token texted, terrifying Craig even more._

_"I'm so so sorry I got us into this. I'm the worst possible human being. I've ruined everything. You can still get out."_ _He sent, tears strolling down his cheeks at the idea of being stuck in this situation alone._

_He wanted to call the police. He wanted protection. But he also didn't know what could be done. He was too scared to try. What if Stephen found out, and hurt someone before police were able to do anything? Would they really take his threat seriously? He had texts to prove how manipulative he was, and that he had photos. He had bruises, and witnesses. It was possible, but he was too emotional to think about it rationally. And he felt like a fucking coward because of it._

_"We're not getting out of anything unless it means you're coming with us." Clyde replied._

_"Agreed. It's all of us, or none of us." Token responded._

_Craig's chest was heavy as he began to weep, louder than he had ever cried before._

_"Thank you so much. I want to tell Tweek so badly." He texted, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. He hated how obsessed he sounded with the blonde, but he'd be lying if he said that there was anything else on his mind. If he had just gone to Tweek's house that day and ignored Stephen, they wouldn't be in any of this mess._

_"I think it'd protect him more if he didn't know..." Token replied, and Craig knew he was right._

_Stephen texted him again. "Craig. Answer me."_

_Craig nodded, knowing that there was no way around the situation yet. He would figure something out. They would talk to the police. They would file some type of restraining order. But until then, he had to stay on Stephen - and his dad's - good side. He responded with fake enthusiasm, hoping the other teen wouldn't notice. "Yes, I'd like to go back to normal. I understand why you did that. Thank you. It's all my fault. I'm sorry, Stephen."_

_Stephen seemed to like that response because he quickly replied, "Good :) I love you so much"_

_Crying, Craig responded._

_"I love you too, Stephen :)"_

 

 

Tweek was visibly shaking with anger, though Craig could hardly see him through the tears that were streaming down his own face. Reliving the awfulness brought back all the same emotions as back then, though he felt them twice as much now that he was finally telling Tweek. He desperately wanted Tweek to say something - anything. To comfort him, to yell at him, to tell him what he was thinking. Instead, Tweek sat where he was, fists clenched in his lap. His knuckles were so white that it looked foreign against the blonde's already pale skin. Craig swallowed.

"T-Tweek?" He asked, trying to sound strong, but his voice broke near the end. A strangled cry erupted from his throat; one that he didn't know he had been holding in. He felt rising heat in his cheeks, and he mentally cursed himself for showing so much emotion. His voice seemed to trigger something in the blonde, however.

Tweek began to cry; wet, angry tears streaming down his face as his bit his lip hard enough to draw a little bit of blood. The sight broke Craig's heart.

"I-I'm so so sorry..." He started, then began to hyperventilate. He repeated the words over and over, beginning to shake as his eyes widened. Craig immediately recognized it as a panic attack and leaned over, instinctively grabbing the blonde and pulling him toward his chest like he had so many years ago. Tweek pushed him away, though he was nowhere near as strong as Craig. The raven-haired boy refused to let him go, placing his cheek against Tweek's soft tufts of blonde. He inhaled the familiar scent of the shampoo that he always used, surprised that he still remembered what he smelled like. The hair felt warm against his cheek, and Craig closed his eyes. They hadn't been in this position for a long time. He hadn't touched Tweek in years. He hadn't actually felt this safe in who knew how fucking long.

Tweek still fought for a moment, clearly not wanting to be in the awkward situation. The struggle made Craig's eyes water even more, hurting his feelings more than he wanted. He knew that Tweek probably didn't want to be touched - especially not by Craig. He remembered when the blonde had no issue with their affection toward each other, and had even welcomed his embrace anytime his nerves got the best of him. Now, Tweek wanted nothing to do with him and the thought turned Craig into ice.

_I'm not his comfort anymore. He only wants affection from people close to him. We're not close anymore... Not like him and Kenny._

A small flash of anger made Craig lean further into the boy.

"I-I'm not the o-one that needs c-comfort!" He protested, voice breaking.

Craig tightened his muscles, squeezing Tweek hard.

"Th-then comfort me." He said, voice breaking. He needed Tweek to understand.

"I need this. Please, Ducky." He knew the name would break him. He left the tears fall, quietly sobbing into Tweek's hair. Tweek froze, unsure of what to do. After a few moments hesitation, Craig felt the blonde relax only slightly and lean closer. The tiny arms of the smaller boy wrapped around Craig's waist, though they couldn't fully reach around. Craig was sitting cross legged, his back against the arm of the couch. Between his legs, the blonde fit easily, sitting on his knees and leaning into him. He mumbled something into his chest, but Craig couldn't quite understand what it was.

Whatever it was, it didn't matter. He was so overwhelmed with everything - the fact that Tweek was actually here, that he was telling him everything, that he was reliving the events of the past, and that Tweek hadn't walked away. He felt the urge to do something more, but he didn't quite know what he wanted. He was just happy that this was happening at all. He didn't want his mind or his actions to ruin anything. He hugged Tweek tighter, and whispered into his soft, blonde hair:

"I missed you so much, Tweek."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it was so long, but I thought you guys deserved it after having waited so long :)


	17. Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can we go back to normal?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured that this story has been dark enough for a little bit. Trust me, it's going to get MUCH darker (heads up). But, there's no reason happiness can't shine through every once in awhile.

Tweek’s world had frozen, squeezing his lungs as he forced out shaky breaths. His fingertips were being to frost over, the cold snaking its way up his torso and numbing his chest. Though he knew it was illogical, he thought he could see the air as it left his mouth - small puffs of white blowing against his fingers and toward Craig’s chest. Craig wasn’t shaking like he was, though; he seemed warm and calm as he took slow breaths and exhaled through his nose into Tweek’s hair. It tickled and sent another chill down his spine.

The air itself hung silently, all emotion and tension that had been suffocatingly shoving its way down his throat was now replaced with an eerie feeling of tranquility. If he hadn’t been on the verge of a mental breakdown, he would have probably enjoyed the moment. He was beginning to freak out: he felt the air whistling through his lungs; knew his heart was hammering against his ribs hard enough to break a bone; could practically sense the creaking in his bones as they twitched every few seconds. All of this, yet he couldn’t _hear_ anything. Had he gone _deaf?_

His chest was tightening too quickly, and he worried that his breathing would suddenly stop completely. He could feel his heart pounding erratically as it furiously pumped blood through his veins so hard that it would have been almost impossible not to hear it. So why couldn’t he? If Craig noticed - and there was no way he hadn’t - he didn’t say anything. Tweek swallowed, burning his dry and aching throat with a failed attempt at moisture. His vision began to spot as he started to panic even further.

A small cough from the other boy ignited his hearing, crashing reality back into focus. A rhythmic drum roared in his ears, so thundering that he was certain they were physically beating along with it. His cheeks felt raw against the dried tears that cracked under his eyes when he blinked. Though they had only been in the position for a couple of minutes - ten, tops - it felt like he had cried hours ago. The pain was making his head dizzy, flooding his stomach with nausea every time he adjusted even a centimeter. He was terrified that he was going to puke, pass out, or both.  

He knew that he wasn’t doing a good job at hiding his anxiety. There was no way Craig couldn’t hear the hitches in his breathing of the small trembling figure that sat between his legs. Another wave of anxiety washed over him, triggering the start of a panic attack.

 _I’m sitting in Craig motherfucking Tucker’s_ **_lap_ ** _._

The thought was almost enough to make him faint.

He shook his head, ignoring the pain it brought with the movement.

_No, I’m not sitting IN his lap; I’m sitting on the couch. His legs are just around me._

He inhaled again, taking a deeper breath as means of steadying himself. At some point, he had pulled his knees toward his chest; they had fallen asleep after sitting on them for so long. Now, he had a barrier between them and the thought brought a different mixture of emotions with it. _My legs are between us. **They’re** in his lap, not- _

A rising blush stopped him from continuing his thought. He adjusted his head once more, burrowing it closer to himself and further from Craig’s cheek. The older boy must have fallen asleep - or been as deep in thought as Tweek was - because he jumped at the sudden motion. “Are you okay?” Craig asked, clearing his throat. He pulled himself away to look into the blonde’s eyes, but Tweek only looked down in embarrassment.

“S-Sorry. I-I-I just h-haven’t been h-hugged by someone d-different in l-like four years.” He was stumbling over his words, riding out the nervousness that was bubbling in the pit of his stomach. Was “hugged” the right word? It seemed like “held” or “embraced” was more appropriate. Or “cuddled.”

The moment the thought crossed his mind, guilt engulfed his chest like fire.

He wasn’t quite sure why, though. Part of him felt bad for assuming. Another part felt that he was using Craig’s vulnerability and turning the situation into something it wasn’t, just to make himself feel better. He was misreading the scene and thinking only of himself - just like he had for so many years.

_You’re taking advantage of him. Like Stephen._

He thought bitterly, anger and self-hatred coursing through his bones. He was no better than that fucking asshole. He never beat Craig, sure - but he never helped him either. He turned everything around and made it into a pity-party for himself. He even got his new friends to believe him, blaming Craig for the shit he had done to himself. He didn’t deserve to be held like this. Silently, he dug his nails into his other arm, wincing at the pain but gladly welcoming the new feeling. He deserved it. Thankfully, Craig hadn’t noticed.

The other boy only nodded, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. “Right, sorry Tweek. I got caught up in the past. Part of me still thought…” He broke off, looking away from Tweek. He swallowed and continued, sounding less confident than before. “P-Part of me thought that we were still… That we were still friends, you know? Like before.” Craig pulled himself away, awkwardly shifting his legs over Tweek and maneuvering them in front of himself over the edge of the couch. He stared straight ahead, eyes fixated on the blank television in front of them. Tweek stayed where he was for a moment, sadness tugging at his heart. He felt less suffocated being away from Craig, but part of him craved the warmth once more. He felt more alone now than he had a moment ago. Hearing Craig call him by name rather than the one from his childhood also hurt.

He scooted away, placing his back against the side of the couch. Craig was still staring ahead, intently avoiding any eye contact with the blonde.

 _If I hadn’t fucking said anything…_ He thought, mentally cursing himself.

“We’re not, right? We… We won’t be?” Craig’s quiet question interrupted Tweek’s internal dialogue. It took a moment to understand exactly what the boy had meant, when the realization dawned on him. Craig wanted to know if they were - or could ever - be friends? Tweek blinked.

The raven-haired boy’s nervousness was only slightly given away by the small twitches in his leg. Tweek stared at him.

“No.”

His response shocked them both.

Craig inhaled sharply, almost coughing against the sudden air in his lungs. He played it off, trying to give an awkward laugh. His hand cupped the back of his neck, scratching an invisible itch. Tweek stared into his eyes, searching for any sign of emotion. Instead, he saw only darkness. Craig bit his lip. “I-I, um. I really don’t know what… What I expected. I thought I was prepared for… I’m sorry, I…” He was struggling to find words, his legs twitching against the couch and moving the cushions underneath Tweek.

The blonde only shook his head, wanting to explain before Craig had his own panic attack.

“S-Stop, Craig. We.. Can’t be f-friends-”

Craig snorted, still refusing to look his way. “Yeah, I know Tweek. You just said-”

“Not the way we were. We c-can’t go back.” The blonde interrupted, sudden determination in his voice. He wanted Craig to understand what he was trying to say. “I don’t… I don’t want to go back. I-I’m different. You’re… Different. Going back w-wouldn’t be the same. We a-apparently had secrets. B-both of us. Do you really want to g-go back to those times?”

Craig tensed, either surprised or upset by Tweek’s words

“No… I guess I don’t… Would we ever…?” He didn’t finish.

Tweek swallowed and continued staring at him, willing him to look into his eyes and see the urgency on his face. “I don’t kn-know, Craig. I don’t know a-anything other th-than that I’m… Happy.” Craig finally looked at him, eyes confused. Tweek continued quickly, blushing. “Happy that I-I know. Happy that y-you told me. Th-that it wasn’t because of… Me.” Craig was shaking his head, clearly about to deny Tweek’s involvement in anything. Tweek only spoke again, not wanting to lose his train of thought. “I’m happy that we’re talking. That I d-don’t want to _stop_ talking.”

Craig leaned his back against the couch, arms stiff by his sides. "So...? Is that a yes or a no?"

"I-It's... A 'I don't know'. B-but, I w-want to be."

Craig gave a small smile, eyes starting to dance with an emotion that Tweek couldn’t pinpoint.

The older teen nodded, slowly shifting his body to face Tweek at a better angle. “I can work with that.”

“I can too!” A loud voice called from above, revealing three other teens coming down the stairs. Clyde was bounding down the steps, each stride more excited than the last. He practically tripped on the last, attempting to take two at a time and landing hard against the wooden surface below. Token followed behind at a significantly slower rate, with a mixture of amusement and fear on his face as he watched his friend leap over the coffee table and narrowly dodge the television in the center of the room. The black-haired teen stepped carefully on each stair, gesturing toward his feet with a raised eyebrow and an open mouth, as if telling Clyde how he was _supposed_ to walk down the steps. “I need to get you a leash, dude.” He muttered, quietly settling his feet on the end of the staircase and leaning against the railing.

Tweek couldn’t help but smile at the two. He had always loved how excitable Clyde was, and how completely calm Token was in comparison. Clyde reminded him of a puppy, and his brown-hair/chocolate eye combination didn’t help. Token was just the helpless owner that was off to the side, giving you a sheepish smile and mouthing, “Sorry” as Clyde jumped on you.

Butters was last, slowly walking behind them with a look of confusion and something else - hurt? Anger? Happiness? - twisting his face into a forced smile though his eyes couldn’t hide their emotions. The sight made Tweek’s smile falter and he swallowed slowly, not sure who to address first.

Clyde decided for him, having had sprinted over to stand right in front of the two. and practically tackling the small blonde as he stopped right before his knees. “Tweek! I’m so fucking happy you’re here!”

“Deeeeeep breaths, Clyde.” Craig said, taking exaggerated breaths in and out. Though he sounded like he was joking, Tweek could see the annoyed look on the other teen's face. The raven-haired boy's eyes were narrowed, arms crossed against his chest and leaning toward Tweek slightly more as if to stop Clyde at any second. Clyde ignored him, continuing to stare intensely at Tweek. It was slightly uncomfortable, being the center of attention, and Tweek looked at his knees to avoid eye contact. The other boy must have noticed, because Token called from the railing, “I’m happy you’re here too, Tweek. Well, happier now that you two seem to be acting… Better.” Tweek looked up, biting his lip. “Th-thank you, Token. Oh, a-and you too, C-Clyde.” He said, blinking up at the large teen in front of him.

Clyde was bigger than Craig, though not by height; he was all muscle while Craig was pretty lean. His arms seemed to be flexing without trying - his veins sticking out against his skin while they pulsed to his heartbeat and made it seem like he could snap Tweek in half if he wanted. Surprisingly, he didn’t feel anxiety at the thought. He realized that, for the first time in a while, he felt _safe_ being in such a new environment. And it was because of the people he was with, regardless of their past.

He didn’t know whether to feel happy or nervous or guilty about the thought.

Wait. How long had the two been staring at each other? At this point, it seemed like it had been quiet for too long. Clyde was staring at him with an eyebrow raised, arms crossed and Token trying to peer over his shoulder to see the exchange. Craig was staring at them too, seemingly tense. The blonde felt a rising heat in his cheeks and he knew that he had to break the silence.

“H-hi, C-Clyde.”

 _That’s the best I could fucking do?_ He held back a grimace at the lame attempt at conversation, instead focusing on the brown eyes that peered into his own. Without a moment’s hesitation, Clyde smirked playfully and said back, “Well, hi there, Tweek. How’re you doing?”

The genuine happiness in his voice - no matter how teasing - was enough to trigger something within him. It was a memory of a time before; of moments when nothing was complicated and they had all been able to be together without any lingering awkwardness in the air. It made him remember times when the other boy had somehow managed to make his anxiety disappear with his stupid antics or unfunny-funny jokes or insane activity requests (“Are you _sure_ you don’t want to skinny dip in the Koi pond? What if I paid you twenty bucks?”). A smile spread across his face as nostalgia tugged at his heart. Without thinking, Tweek leaned forward off the couch and reached his arm out, touching Clyde’s left hand.

Though he couldn’t see their faces, he assumed that the other three teens were just as confused as Clyde looked. It was a stupid reason to touch him, but he wanted to say it out loud as if to validate the reality of the situation.

“S-Sorry, I-I just wanted to m-m-make sure I-I wasn’t dreaming.”

Clyde’s eyes lit up with his grin, practically glowing with amusement. “There’s a better way to find out!” He said, spreading his arms slightly. The fact that he was hesitating was surprising, but Tweek appreciated it; he wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to be hugged without warning yet. When he realized that Tweek wasn’t going to reject his offer, he leaned forward toward him. Heart still hammering in his chest, he allowed the larger boy to come closer.

The brown-haired giant was wrapping his arms around Tweek’s tiny frame, squeezing his blonde head against his warm neck. Tweek could feel a steady heartbeat against his chest, and he knew immediately that it was Clyde’s; his own was probably going to suffer from a heart attack given the ups and downs that it had suffered through all day. As he was enjoying the familiar smell of Axe body wash, a whisper came into Tweek’s ear:

“I didn’t tell them everything from that night.”

Clyde pulled away, not giving any hint that he had just said anything and big grin still plastered on his face. He dropped the boy and sat on the other side of the room, leaning back in the recliner. Tweek looked at him with a forced smile, confusion and shock dancing in his eyes.

What did that mean?

Interrupting his thoughts, Craig gave a small grunt beside him on the couch. The other teens turned see the raven-haired boy with his arms still crossed and giving a - fake? - annoyed look. "Sure," He started, rolling his eyes. "You can hug him immediately but when I try to even  _touch_ him, he almost passes out."

Tweek's eyes widened, not sure if Craig was joking or not. Either way, a blush spread across his face as he stammered out his excuse. "N-no! I was hungry a-and tired and th-thirsty, a-" Clyde cut him off, laughing hard. "Damn! He's giving you the whole, 'it's not you; it's me' speech. You don't have to make anything up, Tweek. We all know that you loved me most. He can get over it."

A mischievous look crossed his face, confusing Tweek and making him blush harder. Betraying him, his lips formed a small smile; the boys always used to joke with Tweek like this before, and it felt good to return to those times.Then he shook his head and frowned, attempting to force seriousness across his features. Clyde's eyes only widened as he whooped, "See! That proves it! Suck my diiick, Tucker." He smiled sweetly at the other teen and reached for the remote, ignoring the daggers that Craig was shooting toward him.

For a moment, Tweek thought that the exchange might actually be upsetting him (though he wasn't quite sure why), when he was reassured with Craig's smirk. "Guess we'll have to make it a competition."

Clyde gave a small gasp, lifting a hand to his open mouth but forgetting that he was holding the remote. The plastic  _clicked_ against his teeth and he grimaced, flipping off Craig as the teen laughed. "Don't make me look dumb in front of Tweek!"

It was Token's turn to chime in, stepping off his place on the railing and sitting on the other loveseat beside the recliner. "You make yourself look dumb, dude. Besides, we all know that it was  _my intelligence_ that won Tweek over. _Your_ jokes," He said, pointing at a sad, open-mouthed Clyde that was still touching his lips. "and  _your_ attitude would get way too old, way too quickly." He pointed at Craig, who was sitting with his arms still crossed over his chest in a pout. "But me? I have the capability to spice things up." He finished, pointing at himself with satisfaction.

"Because of your... Intelligence? You think you can keep up with mine?" Craig snorted. The simple question was enough to bring Token's confidence crashing down.

"Hey! I can beat you in chess!" 

"Dude, he thought he was playing checkers. Of fucking  _course_ you beat him." Clyde said, turning on the television and beginning to flip through the channels.

"Exactly! He's  _dumb!"_ Token returned.

As the three bickered amongst themselves, Tweek found himself smiling at the scene. It was almost like old times, when all four of them would hang out together at one of their houses and get lost in talking about nothing at all. They could stay up all night talking about anything at all, no matter how unimportant ("Okay, I hear what you're saying. But what _I'm_ saying, Token, is that a fish isn't fucking wet when it's in the goddamned water!"). And yet, they would laugh their asses off for hours and go to bed feeling like they had solved all the world's problems.

Only this time, someone else was there with them. 

Butters.

The other blonde was still standing on the last step, staring at the four of them smiling and talking amongst themselves. Tweek noticed that he didn't look happy, but he didn't look upset either; he looked like he wasn't feeling anything. And the thought of that terrified Tweek.

Butters looked up at Tweek and caught eyes with the boy. His were cloudy, as if he were deep in thought. The idea made Tweek's stomach turn. Tweek stood up, walking over to Butters to ask what was wrong. Thankfully, the others were still too caught up in their conversation to notice. As Tweek approached the boy, Butters cut him off.

"I think I should leave, Tweekers."

_What?_

"N-no, please. I don't w-want you to..." Tweek didn't know what to say. It was the truth; he really didn't want Butters to leave because he was sure that the safety that he was feeling was in part caused by the blonde being there beside him, and he didn't want to seem like he was abandoning his new group for his old. But, part of him wondered if the real reason he didn't want Butters to leave was because he would feel bad about not caring if he did. It was irrational, because of course he would care if his best friend left him - especially in a new situation with three (almost) strangers. But part of him was terrified that he wouldn't be upset with the alone time with the other teens.

Butters stared at him for a minute, then nodded his head slowly. "If you're sure... I can give you alone time. I feel awkward here..."

Tweek gave a small smile, looking down at his feet. "Th-that's how I feel  _all_ the time." Butters rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless.

"Did you two actually work on your project?" He asked, though his disappointed face looked like he already knew the answer. Tweek looked away and slowly shook his head, puffing out his bottom lip in a pout. "We-we were talking..."

"Yeah, sure looked like it. With you in his lap, and all."

Tweek's eyes went wide and he spun around, making sure that the others hadn't heard. They were still watching the t.v., though Craig was looking up at the two questioningly. Tweek bit his lip and turned back toward Butters, hoping that they weren't being too loud. He gestured his head toward the kitchen, indicating that he wanted to talk in a more secure, quiet area. Butters only followed, not saying anything more on the subject.

Once in the kitchen, Tweek began to shake. Though they were out of hearing range of the other teens, he still found himself whispering. "Wh-what did you s-see? What did you h-hear?"

Butters pulled up a seat at the small dining table, picking up Kenny's sweater and playing with the sleeves. Tweek's stomach hurt looking at it. Kenny had no idea that he was here. And he probably wouldn't like it at all. "I didn't  _hear_ anything. We all walked downstairs and saw that you two were... What were you doing? It looked like you were sitting in his lap, or he was holding you, or... Were you crying?" 

Tweek felt like he was going to faint.

"We w-were.. Holding e-each other?" He said, though he wasn't quite sure what to call it. Even to himself, it looked like they had been cuddling. Which wasn't a normal thing to do with a friend, let alone someone that he hadn't spoken to in years. "We were b-both crying... He told me wh-why they stopped talking to me. Th-things I didn't know. Awful, terrible th-things. I had it c-completely wrong."

"Can I know? Or is it personal?" Butters asked, brows furrowed in confusion. 

Tweek swallowed. He had no right to tell Craig's story, but he wanted desperately for his friend to understand. To him, this was probably very confusing and frustrating; hell, it was that way for Tweek as well. For all he knew, he had just learned that Tweek had been cutting himself for _years_  because his asshole "friends" destroyed his life, and then all of a sudden everything was okay and they were going back to normal like the flip of a switch.

Shit. It  _was_ that way.

"It's... P-personal." He decided, knowing he would regret whatever he said. He wanted Butters to know, because he didn't want there to be any secrets between the two like there had been with Craig and the others. But, it wasn't exactly his secret to tell. This was confusing.

"I understand, Tweekers. I do... I just feel weird. You know? I don't know what to tell the guys... Especially Kenny." He said, holding up the boy's hoodie. Tweek instinctively grabbed it and put it in his lap, suddenly aware of how cold he was. A wave of cologne wafted from the fabric, and all Tweek wanted was to go back to Butters' house and see his other friends. Interacting with Craig, Token, and Clyde had been amazing and he hadn't realized how much he missed them until just now - but he felt so incredibly guilty being here without the guys knowing. 

"Kenny's gonna h-hate me..." Tweek said, tears starting to form in the corners of his eyes. His bottom lip puffed out involuntarily, and he sniffed hard to keep himself from actually crying. The thought of Kenny learning where he was, with  _Craig_ , and for how long - it was almost 12 now. He had been here for a little over three hours, and hadn't done anything for his project. Thankfully, it was only Tuesday and they would have the rest of the week in class to talk about it but... A small tear trailed down his cheek without warning.

"Aww, Tweeky no. No, he could  _never_ hate you." He said, leaning over and wrapping an arm around his shoulder. Tweek leaned his head against him, knowing that this was the  _normal_ way to be held by a friend. He and Craig had always been weird, but he never thought anything about it because Kenny had always held him the same way. Would he ever hold him again if he knew where he was? The thought brought another tear down, but he shook his head as an attempt to stop them. He didn't want to cry anymore today; especially not when the others were just next door having so much fun. 

Speaking of...

A small knock came on the door frame. Butters turned his head to the side, not letting go of Tweek. Tweek shifted slightly in his seat, lifting his head off the other boy to look over his shoulder. The noise came from nervous-looking Craig, standing awkwardly in the structure. There was no door to the kitchen; only open space that lead to a small hallway and then the living room. Tweek hoped he hadn't heard anything, though there wasn't anything to hide. He saw Craig's eyes glance at the sweater in the lap, and he hugged it slightly tighter. He really needed to find a way to get Kenny and Craig to be on the same page.

Craig cleared his throat, scratching the side of his cheek. "Everything okay in here?" He looked like he was actively avoiding eye contact with him, though Tweek didn't know why. A small panic bubbled inside of him as irrationalities began playing in his head.

What if he was embarrassed about the whole thing? What if he wanted the two to pretend like nothing had actually happened? What if everything went back to the way it was before, and the two finished their project to only go back to not talking anymore?

Butters finally pulled away from Tweek, pushing himself up from the table to look at the taller teen. "I think Tweek is tired..." Butters started, gesturing toward him. Craig nodded, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, I think he is too. I think he's _always_ tired."

Tweek frowned, feeling like a toddler being talked about by his parents.

Butters continued, "I think I'll walk him home. So he can get some rest. We  _do_ have school tomorrow."

Craig nodded, though he didn't look convinced. "I doubt he'll 'rest'. From what I've seen, he's still not sleeping." Craig glanced at him, finally, a small shimmer in his eyes. "But I understand if he's had too much social interaction."

Tweek couldn't help but feel butterflies in his stomach.  _Anyone_ in the world would be able to see that, yes, Tweek had had a little bit too much involvement with others today. But the fact that it was  _Craig_ that had said it aloud made him feel slightly better about his anxieties. That maybe they weren't as irrational as they sometimes seemed.

"Well then. Let's get you home." He smiled.

Butters stepped forward, suddenly anxious himself. "N-no. You don't have to do that. I can walk him. It'd be out of your way-"

"Dude," Craig interrupted, his apathetic look back onto his face. The sudden change in his tone shut Butters up immediately and Tweek frowned. He didn't like when Craig had this attitude - especially if it was toward his friends. He felt like they where back in school, and he began to worry that this would be his treatment once more. Tweek bit his lip, taking a deep breath. Craig must have noticed the blonde's anxiety, because he continued in a slightly gentler voice, though his look stayed the same. "I live right next to him. It'd be out of my way to wait until you two left. I can walk with you."

Though his words were spoken and applied to both of them, Craig was staring only at Tweek as he said, "But I can stay here or lag behind if you guys want me to." Tweek didn't want that at all; not only would he feel guilty for making him late getting home, he also wanted to make sure that the boy got home safe. Even though he knew that Craig was perfectly capable of getting home by himself without so much as a scratch (better than he could say for himself), Tweek would absolutely hate himself if something happened if he wasn't there. Of course, he wouldn't be able to do anything if something  _were_ to happen, but at least he'd be there with him.

And maybe part of him liked the idea of being walked home by Craig.

Tweek knew that Butters would be too polite to reject Craig's proposal, so he was unsurprised when the blonde gave a forced smile and a hard "yes". The raven-haired teen smiled back, though his eyes were void of any emotion. Tweek wondered what the boy was feeling, if he felt anything at all. His ability to change so quickly was overwhelming, and Tweek wished he could channel his emotions in such a way. Instead, he was a nervous wreck 24/7. 

With a nod, Craig turned around toward the living room. He stopped in the frame, looking back over his shoulder at Tweek. "I'm, um. I'm going to grab my shit and tell the guys that I'm -we're - leaving. Alright?" Tweek nodded, not quite sure why Craig sounded so odd. It was almost like he was expecting Tweek to say or do something, but the blonde didn't quite know what. Craig hesitated for a moment before spinning back around and heading to the next room for his "shit".

The duo stayed in the kitchen, waiting around awkwardly. Tweek looked down at his shirt, stretching the arms over his hands and bunching the fabric between his fists. He usually liked how big his clothes were on him, but right now he just felt out of place and unusually small. While he was fine with staying in the room and waiting on Craig, Butters didn't seem too happy with his decision. "Tweekers," He started, bringing his hand to face and pressing his palm to the center of his forehead. "Look, I know you're  _oblivious_ and don't notice when people want something from you, but gee-whiz. There's  _no way_ you didn't see that!"

Tweek's slow blink of confusion must have confirmed the teen's theory.

Butters gave an exasperated sigh and pressed down against his temple. He closed his eyes and took a deep breathe, as if preparing himself for a long explanation of a simple subject to a small child. "Okey-dokeys, Tweek. He wants you to go back in there and say 'goodbye' to them all. He wants you to walk in after him and keep talking to them, because I don't think he wants you to leave yet. Heck, he probably wants you to go in there and say that only _I_ am leaving and you're staying. He wants me to leave, Tweeky."

Tweek felt panic and sadness in the pit of his stomach as he desperately tried to reassure his friend. "N-no, they like y-you! Th-they don't w-want you to leave, I-I pro-"

Butters shook his head and cocked an eyebrow, amused at Tweek's misunderstanding at the situation. "Tweek,  _I_ want me to leave. I understand why they'd want that too, and seeing all of  _that_ ," He gestured toward the living room. "I kind of wish that I hadn't come." Seeing the look on Tweek's face made him talk faster, attempting to calm down the poor boy. "I'm happy that I came because I wanted to make sure that you were safe. In  _all_ ways. That you were  _stable_."

The way he put emphasis on the last word made Tweek flinch. It made him feel insane, guilty, and upset all at once. He knew Butters didn't mean anything bad by it, but he couldn't help but take a half-step away from his friend. 

 _"_ I'm happy that I came because I know that you're okay. And I can understand why you'd want to talk to them again because seeing how you four interact is... Like you're all brothers." Butters looked at his feet, jaw clenched. "But I still don't fully trust them..." 

Tweek looked at him confused and hurt, not quite sure where to start. 

He didn't want Butters to think that he liked Craig more. He didn't want Butters to think that he would rather be here than with him. He didn't want Butters to be disappointed. He didn't want to ruin everything with his new group. He opened his mouth to speak, but Butters interrupted him once more. "Go say 'bye' to them, Tweeky. I'll be waiting right here. Promise."

It looked like Butters wasn't in the mood to argue, so Tweek reluctantly turned himself around and began his way to the living room. Though he heard the other teen whisper something under his breath, Tweek couldn't make out any words. He was too scared to ask, though, for fear of being told that Butters was upset with him. His walk along the few feet length of the hallway toward the living room was filled with panic riddled conspiracies. (Why did Butters not trust them? Was it just jealousy or uncertainty? Or did he know more than he was letting on? Was it obvious to everyone except Tweek? What if Craig, Token, and Clyde had set this whole thing up to make Tweek's friends stop talking to him - maybe they truly did hate him and want to ruin his life? What if Cartman, Stan, and Kyle were in on it? If they were, did that mean Kenny was? Was the fight earlier staged, and  _that_ was why the other two had hardly had a scratch while Tweek had suffered the worse of it?)

The irrationalities played in his mind to the point of making him dizzy, and by the time he had arrived in the other room only a dozen or so feet away, he was covered in a nervous sweat. He had worked himself into such a fit that anything would trigger an anxiety attack. Thankfully, the three teens weren't holding shanks and wearing masks, preparing for a virgin sacrifice. Instead, they were all leaning against the back of the loveseat and talking quietly.

 _What are they saying?!_ He thought, twitching and grimacing in terror. He tried hard to calm himself down, but all logic had gone out the window. Somehow, the others didn't notice his unraveling state; they, apparently, only saw a small teen in a much too big olive sweater and baggy jeans.

Clyde's face lit up upon his arrival and he elbowed Token, whose own features seemed more relaxed than earlier. Craig, however, looked like he had a headache; fingers rubbing his temples, back arched against the couch, shoulders hunched, and his eyes closed. He must not have noticed Tweek, because he still didn't open his eyes until Token asked, "Are you going home?"

Though Tweek knew it wasn't a real question because he knew the answer already, Tweek nodded anyway and said, "Butters' tired. I-I put him th-through a lot t-today."

Absentmindedly, Tweek touched his head. He felt the swell from earlier and winced. Though it was nowhere near as unbearable as before, he still felt pain shoot through his forehead at the touch. Clyde and Token stared at him, confused. "Oh, Tweek... I'm so sorry, I completely forgot. Are you okay?" Craig said, pushing himself off the loveseat and moving quickly toward the teen. Warm fingers brushed against his head and Tweek jumped at the sudden touch. He was staring into Craig's light, blue eyes as they poured into his own and he hoped that his didn't look muddy in the lighting. "I-it's okay..." He whispered, lips barely parting as he stood frozen in Craig's gaze.

Token and Clyde shifted beside them. "What'd you do to him?" Clyde asked, furrowing his brows. Token was staring at the two, his look completely unreadable to the blonde. "Yeah," He joined in, though he held no emotion in his words. "Did he hit his head when he passed out cause you touched him?"

Craig finally broke their gaze, and looked at his friends sheepishly. "Remember how I said that I got into a fight with Kenny?'

Clyde stood up straight, staring at him suspiciously. "Um, yeah. And it was  _just_ Kenny, right?" Craig looked down and Clyde leapt forward, wrapping his arms around Tweek's shoulders and causing the poor boy to almost jump out of his skin. "Nngh! C-Clyde, wh-what a-are you d-doing?" He gasped.

"Do  _not_ tell me that you hurt this poor, innocent baby!" He said angrily, tightening his grip against the blonde. Token was standing up straighter as well, arms crossed and eyes narrowed at Craig. Tweek had no idea what the fuck was going on, but it was making his face tomato red. "Dude, I don't think Tweek would come here if Craig beat him up." Token started, turning his attention back to Craig. "But, you should probably tell us what happened before we make assumptions."

Craig rolled his eyes and leaned over, pulling Clyde's arm off of Tweek's trembling figure. "I was fighting  _Kenny_. But because he's Tweek, he thought it'd be a good idea to jump in," A groan escaped the mouths of Token and Clyde as Craig continued. "Kenny and I both ended up pushing him and he fell and hit his head. Trust me, I made sure he was okay before tackling Kenny agai-"

A blur of red flashed in front of him and was followed by a yelp.

"Fucking  _ow!_ " Craig shouted, holding his left arm and rubbing it. Clyde frowned dramatically, arm still outstretched from the punch. 

"I could have hit you in the head like you did to Tweek. You're lucky." 

Token snickered from beside them and Craig opened his mouth to protest. "But I just said that I didn't hi-"

A purple blur whizzed by this time, invoking another, even louder bark from Craig.

"Goddamn it, you asshats!" He complained, now rubbing his shoulder. His two friends chuckled darkly beside him while he huffed. Tweek blinked, trying to absorb everything at once. He couldn't tell if what he was seeing was an actual disagreement between the three or if they were all joking. Craig's annoyed look didn't help the blonde decipher anything. He was glaring straight ahead, eyes narrowed and hair falling into his eyes.

"I fucking hate you two." He muttered, turning around and walking past Tweek toward the kitchen. "Tweek, meet me in here when you're done with these assholes." Clyde stuck his tongue out at him and Token rolled his eyes, sputtering something about Craig being a "baby". 

Tweek couldn't help but giggle slightly, happy to see his friends act childish once more. He especially appreciated seeing Craig pouting.

Now that he was alone with the other two, however, the anxiety returned. He bit his lip, feeling out of place once more. He wasn't quite sure what else to say, so he began his conclusion. "W-well, b-bye g-"

Token stopped him, not ready to end their conversation just yet. His eyes were still void of emotion, though his face gave away the number of emotions he was feeling. There was a mixture of pain, relief, fear, confusion, and determination. "We didn't hear anything you guys said before. We came down to check on you and saw you two sitting together-"

"Hugging each other." Clyde interrupted, smiling deviously. Tweek blushed.

" _Sitting_ together. We only heard that you two wanted to be friends again. We don't know what he told you, but we assume you know about," He lowered his voice to almost a whisper. "Stephen. Did he tell you everything?" Tweek nodded, though he wasn't quite sure if it was the truth. He guessed that he knew everything, or at least the majority. Though based on Token's expression, he wasn't positive anymore. Doubt started to creep into his bones. Was there something he didn't know?

"Tweek, I want you to realize that we all wanted to tell you. We were so incredibly stupid and young and scared. We didn't know what to do..." His voice broke, and Clyde continued where he left off. "We should have gone to the police. After the first time we tried though..." He visibly twitched. "It was a tough situation for everyone. It's over now, thankfully. We  _hated_ ourselvesfor it, but Craig took it worse. I don't just mean because of the situation he was in; I mean, he was  _devastated_."

Tweek nodded, though he wasn't fully understanding what they were telling him.

"We're all so happy that you're actually talking to us again. But Craig? He's fucking thrilled." Token said, staring intensely into Tweek's eyes. He must have sensed his confusion, because he leaned closer and whispered to the teen, "Please don't think that this means nothing or very little. You're basically making our entire year by talking to us. And Craig doesn't want to fuck this up."

Tweek narrowed his eyes, trying to piece together the information. Before he could reach a conclusion, Clyde finished for him. "This is gonna sound weird, but... Go easy on him, alright?" 

 _Go... Easy on him?_ Tweek thought, taken aback by what the teens were telling him. Was he supposed to treat Craig differently? What would he do that would be considered going  _hard_ on him? Though the others were looking at him expectantly, Tweek had no idea what to say. 

As Token opened his mouth to speak once more, a nasally voiced sounded from the kitchen.

"Tweek, you ready?"

Tweek jumped, forgetting where he was for a moment. 

"Y-yeah!" He called back, taking a deep breath to stop his shaking. Token closed his mouth and shook his head, muttering a small, "Nevermind."

"It was so good to see you, Ducky." Clyde smiled, hesitating before wrapping his arm around Tweek's shoulders and giving a tight squeeze. Tweek nodded and let him, not sure if he should lean into his touch or hug back or wrap his own arms around him or what. 

_I didn't tell them everything from that night._

Clyde's words echoed in his brain as the teen pulled away, and Tweek wanted so desperately to know what the hell he had meant and what he had told the other two. Token leaned toward him, less overpowering than Clyde. He gave a small smile and put his hand on Tweek's shoulder, putting a tiny amount of pressure down as he said, "We missed you. Get home safe, okay?" 

"Tweekers?" Butters voice rang from the other room, and Tweek quickly backed away from the teens. He debated on whether or not to give them a group hug, but his anxiety got the better of him. Instead, he attempted to let them know how much this meant to him, but his words failed him. "Th-thank you for t-talking to me again. Y-you have n-no idea h-how much it m-m-means to me."

The pained look that spread across their faces made Tweek hesitate, but he quickly realized that he had been in the room too long. He was keeping Butters and Craig so much later than he needed to, and he was tired of being selfish. He turned around and made his way to the kitchen, trying to ignore the pairs of eyes that were drilling into the back of his skull.

In the kitchen, Craig was leaning against a counter, playing on his phone and looking bored as hell. His blue jacket was hanging loosely around his shoulders as if he didn't care if he was wearing it at all. Tweek hoped he would button it up once they were outside, and he decided that he would tell the teen to do so if he didn't. He shook his head, ignoring his illogical concerns and focusing on Butters.

The other blonde was sitting at the table, twiddling his thumbs around the hem of Kenny's orange sweater. He looked nervous as if he didn't know what to say or do around Craig. Tweek suddenly felt guilty for leaving the two alone, though he didn't understand why he would.

"All s-set." He said, looking back and forth between the two. Craig pushed himself off the counter, finishing what looked to be a text and shoving his phone back in his pocket. Tweek watched, wondering what he had been doing or who he had been texting. A small pang of jealousy bubbled within him. He assumed it was because Craig had so many friends and could text anyone he wanted and was always receiving messages. Tweek frowned, hating himself once more.

Butters hopped up, stretching Kenny's hoodie toward Tweek. The blonde took it eagerly, knowing that it would be freezing. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye, but when he looked over at Craig, he still had the same look of apathy on his face.

Tweek slipped the sweater on over his head, gladly embracing the warm cotton fabric and the familiar cologne of his friend. The garment was about three sizes too big on him, layering Tweek in a pleasant heat that stretched over his thighs and almost touched his knees. He pulled his head through the hood, ruffling his already messy hair as it caught along the fabric. He looked up and saw the two teens looking at him. He flushed and bit his lip, scrunching down slightly to avoid the sight of the rising heat on his neck. The sight made Butters chuckle. "You're seriously too small, Tweekers. Kenny would love to see this." Tweek rolled his eyes but smiled at the thought of Kenny seeing him like this. He'd probably want to take a picture.

Craig blinked at him, his expression unreadable.

Tweek stared back at him, still biting his lip. He wasn't sure what to say.

Instead, Craig muttered, "Let's go, Tweek."

Butters nodded and turned toward the door, calling out a farewell to the other teens, though it sounded like they were already back upstairs playing their game. Craig followed behind him, looking over his shoulder at Tweek.

The blonde trudged behind them, feeling embarrassed and nervous about the next hour.


	18. Long Walks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tweek was used to taking walks at night, but this time was completely different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m baaaaaaacckkk!!
> 
> Seriously in love with all of these comments. I never expected so many people to like this, and I truly don’t think it would have gotten this far if not for all of you amazing readers so THANK YOU!
> 
> Like I said before, the holidays are intensely busy for me because I celebrate with like five different families and two different religions. Thankfully, it’s all done and now I can get back to writing :)  
> I have all of January off to work on my babies, and I fully expect to upload at least three more chapters this month (hopefully more). I’m not going to promise though, because the last time I did I was gone for quite a few months (still sorry about that!).
> 
> I never stopped thinking about Tweek and Craig, though, because I got The Fractured but Whole for Christmas and OMFG IT’S SO AMAZING AHHHH!!! I won’t spoil anything, but I will say that I squealed like a fan girl multiple times.
> 
> I hope you all had an amazing holiday season, and here is my (late) gift to you all!
> 
> <3

They had been walking in silence, no one looking at the other and instead all staring forward at the path ahead. It had only taken about five minutes to walk out of Clyde’s brightly lit neighborhood, and now the three wandered the streets in darkness, with Tweek hardly able to see a couple of feet in front of him. Thankfully, the moon was only slightly hidden behind the clouds, allowing the blonde to make out the shadowy outlines of the other two.

Tweek had been tracking the minutes in his head, counting with each step that he took. It had been almost ten minutes without anyone saying a word. Usually, the quietness of night was reassuring to him and allowed him to breathe easier, but right now was different. This wasn’t the normal silence that he was used to; it was filled with tension and anger and anxiety. It felt like nothing had been resolved between any of them, and he didn’t understand why.

 _You’re overreacting._ He thought, forcing himself to take deep breathes. _They’re walking this way because they’re fine and happy and know that nothing needs to be resolved. Not because they’re upset or angry._

The anxiety still chilled his bones, causing him to shiver more than the actual cold wind around him. He curled up deeper into Kenny’s sweater, willing himself to calm down. He _hated_ how nervous and anxious he was; he had no reason to be, yet he was on the verge of an anxiety attack. He looked up at his companions, wishing they would feel the tension in the air and do something about it.

Of course, it was illogical to think that they would notice how he was feeling – especially since he was walking behind them. He bit his lip to keep from exhaling loudly, begging his body to keep quiet in the already still air.

A small buzz from his back pocket distracted his stirring mind, and he blinked back to reality.

_Do I have a text? At almost 1 am?_

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, wincing at the bright light. As his eyes adjusted to the screen, he saw a notification from Kenny.

Before he allowed himself to feel the rush of emotions that were bubbling in the pit of his stomach, he quickly opened the message with shaky, cold fingers.

_Can I call you?_

Confusion and concern tightened his throat and he glanced up once again at the other two. Butters was still walking in front, staring straight ahead, while Craig trailed slightly behind, looking at his phone and walking at his own pace. Tweek swallowed and looked back down at his phone.

_What’s wrong? Are you okay?_

The tips of his fingers were almost numb from the air, biting into his flesh. He ignored the pain, however, staring intently into the bright screen in front of him. As he waited for a response, his left foot suddenly gave out from under him. Tweek gave a small gasp as he fell to his side, catching himself with his elbow.

“F-fuck!” He practically shouted, holding his phone in the air to keep from shattering the screen. The other two boys quickly turned around. Craig was by his side in an instant, grabbing Tweek’s arm. ”Tweek! You okay?” Though Tweek couldn’t see his face, he could hear the concern in his voice. Butters was beside him in another second, hand on his shoulder.

“I-I’m fine, s-sorry. I just t-tripped.” Tweek muttered, embarrassment rising to his cheeks.

“Yeah, but how?” Butters asked, sounding slightly amused now that he knew the blonde was okay. As Craig helped Tweek stand to his feet, another buzz filled the air. Tweek glanced his eyes back to his phone, hoping that the other two wouldn’t notice.

Of course, they did, and Tweek could practically hear the roll of eyes as Craig said, “I knew distracted driving was a problem, but apparently so is distracted walking. Can’t you do two things at once?” Tweek didn’t know if the teen was joking or not. Either way, it caused Tweek to look down in insecurity.

“Who are you texting, Tweekers? It’s past midnight!” Butters asked, squeezing Tweek’s shoulder before letting go.

Tweek shook his head and looked up, eyes adjusting to the darkness around them. Once he could clearly make out their faces, he muttered out a small, “Kenny.” Craig pulled his arm away from Tweek’s, stuffing them into his pockets. “Guess he doesn’t sleep either?” He asked, kicking a rock on the ground.

“That’s weird… He was asleep when we left. I thought he’d stay asleep.” Butters said, looking confused. Tweek nodded and looked at his phone, hoping that there was no reason for concern. Instead, Kenny’s text only caused more anxiety.

_I’m drunk. And I want to talk to you._

“He’s… Drinking.” Tweek grimaced, beginning to type another message.

Butters let out a sigh as Craig gave a laugh.

“Damn, didn’t know he drank on school nights. I mean, I knew he didn’t have much care about that kind of shit, but I didn’t take him for someone who would drink on a Tuesday night.” Tweek could hear the smirk on Craig’s face, and gave him a glare.

“Hey, leave him alone.” Butters said, though there wasn’t much anger behind what he said. Tweek knew that he wouldn’t want any confrontation, though he wouldn’t hold back when it came to his friends. Thankfully, Craig only shrugged and dropped it, pulling out his own phone and turning back toward the path. As the older teen led the way, Butters and Tweek lagged behind.

Butters leaned next to him and whispered, “Did something happen? Is he okay?” Tweek shook his head, not sure what to say. He didn’t know why Kenny would be drunk at the moment – drinking, sure; Kenny drank all the time. But drunk?

“He wants to call me.” Tweek answered, biting his lip. He wanted to call and make sure Kenny was okay, but part of him was annoyed that the boy was doing this. He didn’t want his phone call to annoy Craig to the point of not talking for the rest of the forty minutes of their walk.

“Call him, then. I’ll head up there so you two can talk.” Butters said, smiling and patting Tweek’s back. Without another word, the other blonde jogged forward a bit, walking next to Craig. He heard the teen strike up a conversation, probably trying to drown out Tweek’s call. Tweek sighed and dialed Kenny’s number, hoping that it wouldn’t be anything serious.

“Heyyy, Tweeky!” Kenny answered immediately, clearly intoxicated. “I missed you!”

Tweek frowned, eyebrow twitching slightly out of annoyance.

“H-hi, Kenny. Y-you just saw me.”

Kenny laughed loudly. “I knoooow. But I wanted to see you again! You shoulda come to that party! I wanna see you druuunk.”

There was no way that this was what Kenny really wanted to talk about. He sounded more drunk than he had texted. Was he over exaggerating? Or was he seriously this wasted?

“K-Kenny,” Tweek started, lowering his voice. “Wh-why are you drinking? Are you o-okay?”

Kenny laughed again, though this time he sounded more sarcastic than genuine. “Oh, I’m fucking _perfect_! Just great! Guess what I saw when I got home!”

Tweek’s stomach sank, suddenly aware of the hateful undertones of his friend’s words. “W-what did you s-see?” He asked cautiously, looking up at the other two. They were still talking amongst themselves, loud enough to reassure Tweek that his own conversation wasn’t being listened in on. “T-Tell me, Kenny.”

This time, Kenny howled loudly – a loud, intense sound that made Tweek flinch.

“Well, I… I fucking saw,” A quick pause, with the sound of a can opening in the background. He was opening another beer. “I saw my _dad_ slap the shit out of my mom ‘cause she took his fucking stash of meth! And, ooooh, here’s the kicker, Tweek: Karen saw the whole fucking thing! And tried to _stop_ him.”

Tweek stopped walking, breath caught in his throat. Before he could say anything, Kenny spoke once more.

“God, my dad is so fucking lucky that I walked in when I did. I swear he almost hit her. Instead, he shoved past me and hopped in the fucking car like the coward he is. But now Karen is locked in her room bawling her fucking eyes out and won’t let me in. Told me she hates me, too. Cause I wasn’t there sooner. Wanna know why I wasn’t there sooner? I was busy…”

Kenny stopped to breathe, his breaths sounding slightly hitched.

“I was fucking busy getting some goddamn alcohol with Kevin. And Kevin took the rest of it to his fucking apartment, so I was basically out for no reason. When I could have – should have – been home with her.”

Tweek felt tears form in the corners of his eyes, blurring his vision. “Kenny… P-please.”

“I just… I wanted to hear your voice.” Kenny said, all anger suddenly gone. The only emotion that Tweek could hear was pain. “I wanted… Fuck, I don’t know… I wanted to hear you say it was okay… Because it’s fucking not right now.”

Tweek immediately began to speak, words practically spilling over each other while he tried to reassure his friend.

“Y-you know she doesn’t h-hate you. She h-hates your dad, n-not you. She’s upset b-because she kn-knows that th-there’s nothing that she or y-you could do. She’s upset b-because your p-parents are t-terrible a-and she wants out like Kevin a-and you.”

“She’s upset because I’m a terrible brother and I can’t protect her from my own fucking parents!" Kenny interrupted, angry once more.

"The two fucking idiots that are supposed to love each other and her and _us_! _”_ Kenny’s words came out faster, slightly louder now than before. “Kevin never wants to fucking see me unless it’s to get alcohol, and he never fucking checks on us or them or her. He’s dropped out of our lives and I’m never fucking home and now she thinks that I’ve dropped out of her life and she’s fucking stuck with them by herself!”

A small pause and a sniffle from the other boy. “And she’s probably right… I’m never home unless it’s to party or sleep…”

Tweek shook his head violently, though he knew that Kenny couldn’t see. “S-stop it, n-now! You kn-know that’s not t-true! Y-you’re always there f-for her. You w-walk her home, and t-text her, and tuck her in and you’re her hero. Kevin’s a p-piece of shit, and y-you’re nothing like him or your p-parents. She hardly ever sees them f-fight because of _you._ She’s b-bound to see it sometimes, and y-you can’t always save her from that. But you can s-save her now. Y-you can sit outside her room a-and text her and t-tell her that you won’t leave, n-no matter what she says. Please, Kenny. P-please stop drinking.”

The other line was silent for a couple of seconds. For a moment, Tweek thought that Kenny had hung up. He glanced at his phone to make sure that the call hadn’t ended. When he brought the phone back to his ear, he heard a small sigh.

“You’re right… I know. I know she doesn’t hate me. I hate me right now. I should have been here… But you’re right. I’m here now. And she needs to know that.”

Tweek swallowed, a small smile starting to form on his lips. Though he knew that Kenny was still upset, he was hoping that his words had made some type of impact. As he opened his mouth to say something else, Kenny spoke again.

“I’m sorry for calling you… I just needed to hear you. Needed you to talk some sense into me. Well, stutter some sense into me.” Tweek could hear Kenny’s usual playful attitude returning. 

“I’m gonna go talk to her, okay? Thank you, Tweeky. Really.”

Tweek allowed himself to smile, feeling relieved and proud of himself. “Of c-course, Kenny. A-anything for you.”

Kenny chuckled on the other end. “I’ll let you go. Thanks again. I love you, Tweeky.” A small beep signaled the end of the phone call. Tweek blinked, blushing slightly. “I-I love you too, Kenny.” He whispered.

The two said that to each other all the time, though Tweek felt that Kenny didn’t mean it the way he usually did. He knew that he didn’t mean that he was _in love_ with him, but it did seem like he meant it slightly more than usual.

 _He must have had a ton of beer…_ He thought, shoving his phone back into his pocket. Before he had put it away, he had glanced at the clock. 12:47 am. Much later than he needed it to be. He wasn’t sleeping tonight, sure, but he knew that Butters would have already been asleep by now if not for him.

Feeling guilty once more, Tweek jogged up to the other two. Butters and Craig had stopped a couple feet down the way, leaning up against a metal fence far enough away from Tweek to give him privacy. Once he caught up to them, Butters gave him a look of worry. “Everything okay?” He asked, his jaw clenched.

Tweek nodded, giving a forced smile. “J-just… Parent drama.” He said, knowing that Butters would understand. The other blonde nodded, looking down at his shoes for a couple of seconds. After a moment of silence, Butters looked back up. “Well, I’m glad he’s okay now. Ready to go?” He asked, searching Tweek’s face for any hint at what the two had talked back. Tweek only nodded and glanced at Craig. The raven-haired boy was staring at his clenched hands, face showing no emotion.

Butters turned around and began walking once more, slightly faster than before. Based on the tired look in the blonde’s eyes, Tweek knew that it was past his bedtime and he was ready to be home. Craig turned around as well and walked behind him, slightly slower.

Tweek stayed behind, still not quite sure where to stand or if he should talk to either of them. Craig decided for him, however, and slowed his pace to match Tweek’s.

“Parent drama?” He asked, looking ahead still. Tweek only nodded, knowing that Craig wouldn’t ask any more. He wasn’t one to pry into someone else’s business; Tweek was surprised enough that he asked that simple question. Especially when it had to do with Kenny.

“Does he call you drunk often?” Craig asked, with emotion behind his voice that Tweek couldn’t pinpoint.

He didn’t want to show Kenny in bad lighting, though this wasn’t the first time that this had happened. “N-no, not really. Only s-sometimes. He… He has a h-hard life. I-if it gets too bad, he’ll d-drink a bit if he’s alone. B-but he’s smart e-enough to call me and c-calm down.”

Craig cleared his throat, causing Tweek to look up at him. Though he could only see the side of his face in the dark, Tweek could tell that Craig’s jaw was tight. He hoped that he wasn’t making Kenny seem like an asshole; Craig already didn’t seem to like him.

“So… You’re his rock.”

The statement caught Tweek off guard, resulting in a small fit of coughing. “W-what?” He asked, clearly not understanding what the other boy meant. If he thought that Tweek was the stable one in the relationship, he was completely off. 99% of the time, it was the other way around; Kenny was comforting Tweek and calming him down. These instances happened every couple of months or so, and they didn’t last long. Tweek’s panic attacks lasted hours and occurred multiple times a week, if not many times a day.

“You keep him steady. Grounded. He needs you.”

The blunt nature of his words caused Tweek to walk slightly faster, allowing him to fully stare into the other teen’s eyes. “W-we keep each other steady. H-he doesn’t _need_ me. I-if I hadn’t answered, h-he probably w-would have c-called Butters or Jimmy.”

Craig snorted, shaking his head. It was clear that the boy wasn’t going to say anything more, so Tweek pressed forward. “W-what is it?”

Craig sighed and looked back at the blonde, causing Tweek’s stomach to sink. His stare was intense and filled with so many different emotions. “There’s a reason why I thought you two were dating.”

Tweek felt a rising heat in his cheeks and tears blurred his vision, though he didn’t quite know why. “W-we’re not!” He said, voice slightly louder than he meant for it to be. He felt like a child trying to tell his parents that he didn’t have a crush on his playmate.

“I _know._ But it doesn’t look like that to other people. To me, it looks like he likes you and needs you. It looks like you’re the only thing that’s keeping him going. And I haven’t even seen you two interacting that long.”

Tweek grew silent, unsure of what to say. Sure, he and Kenny were close, but that’s just the kind of relationship he had with his friends. He had the same thing with Butters and Jimmy. It was the same way with Craig once. Did people think they were together years ago?

“I didn’t say it to upset you, Tweek.” Craig started again, staring ahead at the sidewalk. “I only wanted to let you know what I thought.”

Tweek nodded, still not sure what to say or how to continue the conversation.

“ _Do_ you like him, though?”

Tweek inhaled sharply, almost tripping once more. Craig was incredible at being abrupt with his questions and thoughts. He had taken his breath away so many times in just the past day that the blonde was surprised he had any air left to breathe.

“N-no!” He said, more forced than he would have liked. He didn’t want to sound like he was denying it because it was true; he wanted to sound genuine and like he was denying it because there was truly nothing there. He no longer felt cold; instead, he wanted to strip off Kenny’s sweater and hand it back to Butters.

“No… He’s my b-best friend,” He started once more. He felt guilty for calling someone else a best friend in front of Craig, though he knew that the other teen would understand. “He’s l-like my brother. I _love_ him, but I-I don’t… _like_ him…” It was a pathetic attempt at explaining himself, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

Craig glanced at him from the corner of his eye and shrugged. “Alright. I believe you. Just know that I don’t care. I’m _gay_ , Tweek. I wouldn’t care if you liked a guy.”

Tweek’s face had to be as red as a tomato at this point. The fact that Craig had said it out loud made it more real than before. Craig was actually _gay._  Not bisexual, not bi-curious. Fucking gay. Just like Tweek. The two had more in common than he had thought before.

Butters stopped walking, turning back around. “Tweekers, this is my neighborhood.” He said, gesturing toward a brick archway beside them. “Do… You want me to keep walking with you?” The tired look in his eyes made Tweek shake his head almost immediately.

“G-go to bed, Butters.” Tweek smiled, walking toward his friend. “I-I’ll see you tomorrow.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Butters nodded. He pulled Tweek into a quick, warm embrace. “Text me when you get home.” He whispered into Tweek’s ear, pulling away and waving at Craig. After he turned and walked toward his house, Tweek looked over at Craig.

For some reason, the air felt slightly less tense. Craig nodded his head toward the path, starting to walk toward their own neighborhood. It was only about fifteen more minutes until they reached their houses, and Tweek had no idea if the time was going to spent in silence or awkward conversation.

Craig immediately picked up the conversation where it had ended, leading Tweek to believe it was going to be the latter.

“Have you ever dated?”

Tweek let out an audible sigh, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably.

“You don’t have to answer, you know.” Craig said, a small smile playing at his lips. Tweek shook his head, trying to calm down his nerves.

“N-no, I kn-know… I, well… No, n-not really. I m-met someone online a year ago, and we u-used to talk all the time. We p-played games online, a-and used to t-text…” Tweek blushed, trying to ignore the memories. He didn’t like thinking about it.

“What happened?” Craig asked, suddenly serious again.

Tweek bit his lip, willing himself to not get teary eyed.

“We… J-just stopped. I… I guess I was too b-boring. Th-they said th-they found someone better...”

“Well fuck them. Because you’re not boring. What was her name?” Craig asked, chewing the inside of his cheek. Tweek wasn’t quite sure why Craig was reacting the way he was, or if he truly wanted to talk about this or not.

“Um… Calvin.” Tweek muttered, looking at his feet.

Craig swallowed loudly, causing Tweek to wince. The blonde refused to look up, scared of what Craig’s face would look like.

“Well… Fuck Calvin. He’s an asshole.”

Tweek let out a small breath, not quite sure how to respond. He knew that Craig had said that he wouldn’t care if Tweek had liked a guy or not, but he didn’t know if that was true. He still wasn’t quite sure, but at least now he felt less nervous.

“You need a real dick. Not an online dick.”

Tweek looked up at Craig, shocked. Craig was staring at him with a playful smirk on his face, eyes dancing mischievously. Tweek smiled back, still embarrassed. “Uh, yeah… I-I didn’t c-care much for w-webcam sex.”

Craig laughed loudly, clearly taken aback by Tweek’s straightforwardness. He grabbed Tweek’s left hand and slapped it with his own, giving him a highfive. “Damn, Tweek! I didn’t know you were into that!”

Tweek only shook his head and blushed even more, looking away. He didn’t know why he was telling Craig all of this. He especially didn’t know why he wasn’t feeling anxious or nervous about it. He felt playful and slightly relaxed, as if they were back all those years ago.

“I missed you.” Craig said, slightly quieter after a few more moments of silence.

Tweek swallowed, still staring straight ahead. They were only a couple of minutes from their houses now.

“I missed this. I missed talking with you. Laughing with you. Being next to you, even if we aren’t talking. Jesus Christ, I missed us.”

Tweek didn’t know how to respond; he was scared he would say something to ruin the moment. Thankfully, Craig continued.

“I used to think about all those times when you would come over to my house. We would play with Stripe and watch Terrance and Phillip. We would play video games and you would make a pot of coffee and make me try it, and I would pretend to gag and tell you that you were insane for drinking it black. Then you would call me insane whenever I added my mom’s creamer and sugar to it. I thought about that the other day when I saw you in class. When I heard you were my partner… I didn’t know if you would request someone else or not. I was hoping you wouldn’t. And you didn’t. And I thought that maybe I could talk to you again. Start over. I had no idea that this would be happening. That I would ever talk to you again. And I can’t tell you how happy I am.”

Tweek stayed quiet, allowing Craig to speak.

“It’s been years and so many different things have happened to us. We’re completely different people. I’m not the same Craig as I was all those years ago. And yet, standing next to you here, I feel like we’re back to those simpler times. I missed it.”

Craig finally stopped, clearing his throat. Tweek allowed a few moments to pass, giving himself time to think. He didn’t want to mess this up, or change Craig’s mind.

“I a-agree… I f-felt it back at C-Clyde’s. That we were b-back to being k-kids. I n-never forgot you g-guys. I’m h-happy that we’re t-talking again. I m-missed you too. I missed u-us.” He bit his lip, knowing that he could have said something more. He sucked at communicating, especially when it came to his feelings. He wanted to express how happy he was that his friends were back in his life. That he missed them all so much. He wanted Craig to know everything that he had been through, and he wanted to know everything that Craig and the others had been through. He wanted to let the older boy know that this was probably the best night that he had had in the past couple of years.

Before he could say any of that, the two were stopped in front of their homes.

Craig shook his head, looking back down at the blonde. There was a smile on his face, though it didn’t reach his eyes. Tweek couldn’t quite tell what the other boy was feeling, but for some reason he wasn’t as nervous about it this time. He didn’t feel like it was something bad – or at least not _completely_ bad.

“I get it, Tweek. I know what you mean.”

The two stood awkwardly, not quite sure what to say. Tweek looked toward his house, somewhat upset with the idea of heading inside. He didn’t want to be at an empty house and stay up for five or six more hours alone until it was time to go to school. He also knew that he wouldn’t be out walking, though; it was too cold and Craig would probably see him try to sneak out.

“Um… I know that we didn’t actually work on our project. So… Did you want to try?”

Tweek blinked. “W-what? N-no! You n-need to sleep. We c-can work on it t-tomorrow in class.” Craig interrupted his protests, shaking his head.

“I’m not sleeping tonight, Tweek. Too much shit has happened, and I won’t be able to. And I know that _you_ ,” Craig poked the blonde’s shoulder softly. “Definitely won’t be sleeping tonight. If we’re both up, we might as well work on it. Or at least talk some more before school.”

Tweek bit his lip, not quite sure how to respond. He didn’t want to be alone, and the thought of talking all night with Craig sounded great. But he didn’t want to be the reason for the other teen to not get any sleep.

Craig started once more, “But, if you don’t want to, that’s fi-“

“N-no!” Tweek interrupted, shocking both teens. “I-I want to. I d-don’t want to be alone, a-anyway.” Craig raised his eyebrow in question, looking toward the blonde’s empty driveway. “Th-they’re away ‘reconnecting’.”

Craig nodded.

“Well, then… After you.”

Tweek bit his lip and nodded, walking forward. As the two made their way toward Tweek’s house, the blonde felt a mixture of nervousness and excitement bubble in the pit of his stomach.


	19. Living Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was used to being alone at his house, but now Craig was with him. With no one else around. At night. Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said, I want to add quite a few chapters during this month. This one's a little short, but I hope you enjoy <3

The door was unlocked, causing anxiety to bubble within the pit of Tweek’s stomach. His parents had just walked out of the house without taking any safety precautions? Didn’t they care about serial killers or burglars? What if all of their furniture was gone, or in the process of being stolen? What if Tweek had walked in on it, and was murdered or kidnapped because of it? Didn’t they care at all? Why hadn’t they at least texted him?

Tweek bit the corner of his lip, looking around the dark, empty living room around them.

What if there was somebody _at the house right now_?

His breathing quickened as he scanned his surroundings, begging for the shadows to not have anyone – or any _thing_ – hiding within them. His fingers shook as they glided along the wall for the light switch. He hesitated for a moment, taking deep breaths to steady himself.

A quiet exhale sounded behind him, causing Tweek to jump. A small squeak escaped his lips.

A large, warm hand landed on his shoulder and gave a small squeeze. Suddenly, Tweek remembered where he was and _who_ he was with.

“Tweek, there’s no one here.” Craig whispered reassuringly, reaching out with a hand and placing it over Tweek’s. Craig’s fingers danced over his own, flipping on the switch for him. A bright light illuminated the living room, erasing the eerie shadows. Thankfully, the only things in the area were the usual objects: a small, ivory couch in the middle of the room, sitting next to a cream-colored recliner; the large television was placed in front of the seats, larger than the rug it sat on. The glass coffee table stretched in front of them, taking up the majority of the room. Magazines, remotes, and change littered the surface, making Tweek wince at the disorder.

Craig took his hand away and leaned in the doorway, waiting for Tweek to move.

The blonde blushed once more and stepped forward, moving out of the teen’s way. He turned around, not quite meeting Craig’s eyes. He looked at the lawn behind him, thinking about the cold air being let into the house. The door wasn’t closed yet, and Tweek hoped that the other teen wasn’t too cold.

“S-sorry about the mess,” He said, hoping Craig wouldn’t think of them as unclean. Tweek usually did most of the tidying, but he felt like he hadn’t been home in days. Craig only shrugged and shut the door quietly, taking off his already loose jacket.

“Tweek, seriously. Calm down. My house is a train wreck compared to this. Besides, I don’t see a mess?” Craig looked around, eyebrow raised. “I don’t know what _your_ eyes see, but it’s definitely not what mine see.”

Tweek looked down at his shoes, biting the inside of his cheek. He wanted his home to be better – more attractive and welcoming. Instead, it felt cold and dull and unclean. He didn’t know what Craig’s house looked like, but it had to be better than his own. The blonde thought back to Clyde’s house and how warm it had felt there. Like a _family_ occupied the area. Here, it felt like strangers took up their own space and left whenever they wanted. Sadly, it wasn’t too far from the truth.

Craig must have noticed Tweek’s reaction, because his voice came out softer than before.

“It’s better than my house. I’m happy I came here instead of gone home.”

Tweek looked up, confused. He didn’t know if Craig meant the atmosphere or the looks, but based on the distant look in the teen’s eyes, the blonde wasn’t sure if he really wanted to know. Instead, he only nodded and stood up straighter, looking toward the stairs.

“D-do you want to go to m-my room? Or stay h-here?” The question came out strained, though he didn’t know why. He felt nervous with another person in his house, especially with that person being Craig.

Craig swallowed, looking at the stairs as well. “Um, well… It’s up to you. I don’t care.” The teen shrugged and looked down, tapping his foot.

Tweek nodded and turned around, making his way to his room. He didn’t want Craig to see how nervous he was, though he could tell that Craig was slightly nervous as well. It seemed awkward and forced, making Tweek think that he didn’t want to be here after all. He desperately didn’t want the other boy to leave, and if them moving to his bedroom would help the situation, Tweek was willing to force himself out of his comfort zone a little.

As they made their way upward, Tweek held his breath. He knew that Craig would be looking at the photos along the wall, taking in the joyful looks within the frames. Hopefully he wouldn’t bring anything up, though Tweek wouldn’t blame him if he did. Maybe he would comment on their “happy little family”, wishing for his own to be like the blonde’s. If he said anything, would Tweek lie and say that his parents were happy, and that he had a good life? Or would he reveal the truth behind his drugged up mother and abusive father?

Within a couple of seconds, the duo were standing outside his bedroom door. Craig hadn’t said anything yet, making Tweek believe that he either hadn’t noticed, or was too polite to ask.

Tweek cleared his throat, turning to look at his companion.

“Th-this is it.”

Craig chuckled, cocking the corner of his lip upward into a smirk. “Well, yeah. I remember where your bedroom is. Gonna let me in, though?”

Tweek blushed and nodded, muttering a quick “sorry” under his breath.

He turned back around, slowly opening his bedroom door. Feeling slightly less nervous than before, he turned on the light and quickly scanned his room, hoping nothing would pop out. The pile of shirts on his bed caused him to jump slightly, though he recovered fairly fast. He stepped inside, leaning his back against the wall as Craig took everything in.

It wasn’t much; a simple design of beige walls and grey borders. His bed took up half the space of the tiny room, covered with a neat, folded pile of laundry and lined with light brown sheets. His bedside table sat beside it, taking up even more room than necessary, Tweek twitched at the thought of how empty it was now that his friends had taken his belongings. He absentmindedly touched his arm, suddenly wishing he was alone with a knife.

He shook off the thoughts as Craig made his way around, stopping by the computer desk in the corner. “Nice setup,” He mumbled, running his hand along the wooden surface. A dark-stained dresser stood beside it, covered with a few candles, journals, and a plate of food.

_Did mom drop off a plate to an empty room? Did she not notice I was gone? How much medicine did she take before they left?_

Finally, Craig stopped in front of his bookshelf. It wasn’t completely filled, but it did have quite a few collections of classics. Tweek watched as the teen’s eyes darted across the covers, taking in the names and authors.

“Mythology? Psychology? _Biochemistry_? Damn, Tweek, you read this for fun?”

Tweek blushed once more and nodded, looking toward his window. If Craig wasn’t here right now, he’d probably be sitting outside in the cold, leaning up against that old tree and drawing distorted images in his journal.

“My favorite is Greek. But I think I could get into Celtic.” Craig said, reaching down to pick up a book. Tweek looked at the teen in shock, surprised that he was interested in the same subjects.

“Y-you read m-mythology too?” He asked, not quite sure what to expect.

“Well, yeah. What, did you think I didn’t read?” Tweek blinked. “Hell, did you think I read shit? Like, romance or vampire books?” Craig smirked, cocking an eyebrow up.

Tweek gave a small smile and shrugged, willing himself to feel less anxious. “I-I thought that m-maybe you read b-books on how to s-sound mysterious.”

Craig smiled back, putting the book on the shelf once more. “Nope, that’s just my personality. Gets the girls all riled up, though. And I can’t help but love the idea of everyone thinking I’m cool.”

Tweek nodded, feeling slightly embarrassed. Absolutely no one thought he was cool. Not even his friends; even they thought he was a dork. A lovable dork, sure. But a dork, nonetheless.

Craig looked behind the blonde, staring at the plate of food on the dresser. “Did you not like the cooking?”

Tweek froze, unsure of what to say.

_I don’t like any cooking. Or food, for that matter._

“U-um, I w-was just… Sh-she dropped it off w-when I wasn’t h-here. I-it’s cold now,” He started, praying that Craig would accept it. Thankfully, the teen only shrugged once more and turned toward the bed.

“Even your messes are organized. My room has clothes everywhere, and my games are all over the floor. Maybe I should get you to come in and clean.” The boy smiled again, something dancing behind his eyes. Tweek gave a small smile, nodding. “I-I think I could do th-that.”

Craig nodded and sat down on the bed, placing his jacket down gently. “So… Do you want to work on it, or not?” Tweek walked forward, legs suddenly feeling like jelly.

Craig Tucker was sitting on his bed. Was he supposed to sit down too? It was, after all, _his_ bed. Should he sit on the floor, or would that be weird? If he sat on the bed, how far away was he supposed to be? Sitting right next to him would seem strange, yet sitting too far away might be rude. Craig would understand his apprehension, right?

Inhaling sharply, Tweek sat on the edge and hoped he made the right decision. Craig hadn’t said anything yet, though the blonde wasn’t looking at his face. For all he knew, Craig could have a look of absolute hurt.

“W-we could work on it.” He said, forcing himself to look at the teen. Craig’s face was his normal blank, save for the small smile that played on his lips. “Alright.” He shrugged, moving toward the middle of the bed.

 _Why is he so comfortable?_ Tweek thought, wishing to have the older boy’s confidence. _Why can’t I be fucking fine for once? This is my own room. Why can’t I just relax?_

“I have to be honest with you Tweek,” Craig started. Tweek’s stomach sank, not sure where the conversation was going. He hoped that Craig wasn’t about to drop a bomb on him. It was already bad enough as it was. “I seriously have no idea what the fuck the assignment is about.”

The blonde exhaled a quick breath that he didn’t know he had been holding. He couldn’t help but smile. “I-I don’t really know, e-either. I th-think we just compare m-music tastes? I don’t th-think she really th-thought too hard about it.”

Craig nodded, stretching one leg out on the bed while keeping his other steady on the floor. He looked like he was about to lie down, and Tweek didn’t know what he would do if he did. His chest felt tight, though he forced himself to breath regular. “Yeah, I thought as much. Pretty sure she just made one up so she could get back to her show. She kept talking about it to one group. Something about a love triangle and how she didn’t know which one she wanted the main character to end up with. I don’t know why she became a teacher if she didn’t want to teach.”

Tweek shrugged, looking down at his hands. He didn’t want to talk bad about one of his favorite teachers, but he knew that everyone in the class thought the same things. “Y-yeah… I like wh-when she lectures, b-because she knows wh-what she’s talking about. I th-think she’s just not m-mature enough for it. I b-bet she’d be a good online t-teacher.”

Craig smirked and moved his head down slightly, making Tweek look up. As they caught eyes, Craig snickered and said, “Yeah, I think you’d like it better online too. Wouldn’t have to interact, and it seems like you’ve had a pretty fun time on the internet.”

Tweek blushed hard, heat coursing through his body.

_He’s not going to let that go, is he?_

Craig laughed, throwing his head back. After a few moments of chuckling, he looked back at Tweek, eyes bright with happiness. “Calm down, Tweek. That’s the last I mention it, I promise. For now, at least.” Tweek nodded, looking down at Kenny’s sweater still on him. Craig’s eyes followed his. The mood shifted once more, turning quiet. Craig cleared his throat, shifting straighter on the bed.

The fabric felt uncomfortably warm, and Tweek suddenly didn’t want anything to do with it. Swallowing hard, he shoved his hands into the sweater, pushing it upward. Once his head was engulfed, he exhaled slightly. He didn’t want to be the reason for all of the awkwardness anymore. As he shoved up, he felt the fabric pulling at his shirt. As it lifted over his head, he heard a small gasp come from the other boy.

A cold air tickled his stomach and Tweek suddenly realized it that his shirt was above his chest. Quickly, he pulled the rest of the sweater off and yanked his shirt down, putting Kenny’s jacket in his lap and tightening his grip on the texture.

His face was white, heart hammering in his chest. He felt naked, though he was fully clothed. Why had Craig gasped?

Craig leaned forward, looking hard at the blonde. Tweek felt a pair of eyes burning into his head, but he refused to look up.

“I didn’t realize you were so… Small, Tweek.” Craig whispered, still staring at him intently. Tweek’s own eyes began to blur, half from embarrassment and half from shame. It reminded him of earlier, when Kenny had seen his cuts. He didn’t want any more secrets coming out, especially right now.

Craig gave a small cough and scooted back, leaning against the wall. “I mean, you were always small, but damn. I could see your ribs.” Tweek continued to stare down at the sweater, begging himself to not cry. Craig continued, voice lighter now than before. “You need to gain a little bit of weight. But, you still look good.”

Tweek glanced up, eyes meeting Craig’s. The icy blue’s had a twinkle behind them, sending relief through his veins. Tweek sat up slightly straighter, pushing Kenny’s hoodie to the side. He pulled down the sleeves of his own sweater, hoping that they wouldn’t come down and reveal anything else. Craig smiled and said, “Let’s talk about something else. Something that will help you relax. Would music help?”

Tweek gave a small nod, feeling like a child. Thankfully, he didn’t notice any onset of a panic attack. So far, so good.

“Alright, what do you listen to?”

The younger teen bit his lip, praying that he wouldn’t say anything dumb. “I-I listen to a lot of stuff…”

Craig chuckled and leaned forward a bit, his black hair falling slightly into his eyes. Tweek wanted to push it to the side so he could see Craig’s eyes better. “Well, yeah. But what _kind_?” Tweek swallowed quietly and nodded, thinking about what he should say. After a few failed attempts at thought, he shrugged and said, “A-anything from the oldies t-to rock to grunge to p-p-pop.”

_That told him nothing, idiot. You said basically everything._

Craig exhaled a whistle, giving the blonde a smile. “Oldies? Rock? Grunge? Pop? Anything else?” Tweek nodded, though he refused to elaborate. “Alright, then give me examples of some of those.”

Tweek blinked. Examples? He could choose common bands, ones that Craig would have at least heard of. He was sure that the bands he listened to weren’t exactly known to many people. But what if the other boy had heard of them? What if they had even more in common? Tweek bit the corner of his lip.

“Uh… Oldies? I-I guess stuff l-like The Ink Spots or F-Frank Sinatra.”

Craig nodded, gesturing with his hand for Tweek to continue.

“Um… And rock? I g-guess it would be s-stuff like Breaking Benjamin o-or Godsmack.”

Craig smiled, once more gesturing for him to continue.

Tweek swallowed, feeling a small heat rush into his cheeks. He didn’t like talking about himself this much.

“Grunge? N-Nirvana and Pearl Jam. Pop… I g-guess whatever’s popular? I kn-know that I l-like Twenty One Pilots a-and some Maroon 5.”

For some reason, Tweek felt insecure about his answers. Would Craig agree with his choices, or would he think that they were boring? Maybe he didn’t choose the right ones. There were better examples that he could have used, but how was he supposed to know which ones Craig would have enjoyed? Did Craig listen to any of those, or did he listen to completely different genres?

Thankfully, Craig only continued nodding. “That’s a huge list. But I can agree. I don’t really listen to much of those. Not the oldies, at least. I guess I should have pegged you for someone with a huge variety, though. I’m pretty boring.” Tweek raised an eyebrow, surprised at the easy-going nature of the other teen. It seemed like nothing phased him. Craig continued, “I listen to either rock or rap, honestly.”

Tweek must have given him a look, because Craig only chuckled. “I know, I don’t really look like a rap person. But I’m pretty good at the lyrics, I must say. In fact, I can do Rap God by Eminem almost perfectly. The ending kind of gets me, though.” Craig grinned, looking pleased with himself. Tweek smiled back, relaxing.

“I-I like Eminem.” He said, hoping Craig wouldn’t think he was just saying that.

“No shit?” The other boy asked, smirking. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Tweek bit the inside of his cheek, trying to keep himself from grinning like an idiot.

“Well,” Craig coughed. “Now what? We talked about our tastes. Now what do we do?”

_I have no idea._

“We… T-talk?” He practically whispered, mentally slapping himself. Why was this so hard? Couldn’t they just… Hang out? Why was he so fucking awkward? Suddenly, Tweek felt cold again. Nervousness and anxiety washed over him, causing his breaths to quicken. Why was he so anxious all of a sudden?

_Talking can lead to any subject. At least before, we had music. Now, he could bring up anything. Like the past._

He squeezed his hands, knuckles turning white. He begged himself to calm down, but the air was getting tight in his lungs.

 _Please don’t have a panic attack._ He pleaded, closing his eyes. _Please stop being so fucking stupid. Please just be a normal fucking person for once in your pathetic lif-_

“Tweek.” Craig’s voice cut through his thoughts. Tweek looked up, quickly blinking away the tears that were forming in the corners of his eyes. “Calm down.”

“S-sorry, I-I-I don’t know wh-why I’m so n-nervou-“ His words were interrupted by Craig leaning forward. His face was inches from Tweek’s, blue eyes staring into his blurring hazel ones. His throat closed, stopping all air from coming in or blowing out of his body. Before he knew it, Craig pushed his arms out and grabbed both of Tweek’s shoulders. The blonde froze, unsure of what to do. It would seem rude to pull away, right? Or was that the normal reaction? After all, a practical stranger was touching him. In his room. On his bed.

With only slight hesitation, Craig pulled Tweek forward. In a matter of seconds, the blonde was leaning against the older boy’s chest. Tweek gave a small gasp, almost pushing off. What was Craig doing?

Instead, Craig tightened his grip and leaned them both back against the wall. Tweek sat frozen for a moment, shoulder being shoved against the drywall while his chest was being pulled against Craig’s side. The older teen had his arm wrapped around Tweek’s small figure, holding him steady. Craig pulled his other leg up onto the bed, allowing himself sit up slightly straighter and relax more into their position. His breathing was steady and calm, much the opposite of the smaller boy.

They sat in that pose for a few more moments, with Tweek’s breaths quickening with each passing second. He curled his legs up toward his chest, attempting to put space between the two. Craig suddenly began to rub small circles on the blonde’s shoulders, giving small “shushes” after each rotation. Against his wishes, Tweek slowly began to relax. He didn’t want to be in this position. He didn’t want to be freaking out. He didn’t want any of this to be happening. Everything had been fine earlier.

_Why do I fuck everything up?_

“Tweek, relax. It’s me.” Craig whispered, voice strained. Tweek refused to look up, still tense and frozen in his stance. His legs twitched uncomfortably, begging to be stretched out and relaxed like earlier. His body suddenly felt exhausted from the constant stress that it had experienced all day. All he wanted was to lie down, but some stubbornness deep within in protested against it. “Unless, of course, you’d prefer it to be Kenny. Or Jimmy. Or Butters.”

Tweek blinked, heart catching in his throat. What had the other teen just said?

“W-what?” He whispered, still staring ahead at Craig’s shirt. He didn’t want to look up.

Craig shook his head, sighing. His grip loosened as he began to pull away, placing his hand in his lap and off of Tweek’s shoulders. Tweek straightened slightly, arms wrapping around his knees to steady himself. He felt less confined, but the feeling offered no comfort. Now, he also felt like an asshole.

“I saw it. Saw you starting to panic. My first instinct was to hold you, like I used to. It used to immediately calm you down. Only this time, it seemed to have made it worse. I have to keep reminding myself that we’re not eleven, twelve years old again. I’m not your rock anymore.” Craig’s voice broke and he curled one leg up, placing his chin on his knee and staring ahead. Finally, Tweek allowed himself to look up and stare at the other teen. Craig looked as tired as Tweek felt, and the blonde couldn’t help but feel guilty. Craig probably wanted to leave now, because of him.

“I’m sorry for doing that. I shouldn’t have. I think I just hoped that it would work. I know that’s not an excuse. I’m sorry, Tweek.” Craig turned his head slightly, placing his cheek on his knee to lock eyes with Tweek. “Do you forgive me, or do you want me to go?”

Tweek’s mouth opened slightly, a small gasp escaping his lips. Craig _still_ wanted to stay? And he thought that Tweek wanted him to leave? The blonde shook his head, thinking about how to word what he wanted to say. Nothing was making sense in his mind, and he was scared to say something wrong.

Craig nodded, shifting his legs off the bed and facing the desk. Putting both hands beside him, he began to push himself up. “I understand,” He started, about to stand.

“N-no!” Tweek practically shouted, reaching out. His fingers grasped Craig’s shirt, almost pulling the other teen back down. Craig jumped and twisted around, eyes full of confusion. “W-what? But I thought…?” He began, clearly not sure what he wanted to say.

Tweek shook his head again, letting go of the other boy. “I-I don’t want you to l-leave. Please.” He didn’t know what else to say.

“What _do_ you want, Tweek?” Craig whispered, looking down.

Tweek sighed and squeezed his eyes closed, begging himself to finally say the right thing. “I w-want you to s-stay. I want to b-b-be normal. I want us to g-go back to how w-we were, but it’s h-hard because I’m n-not used to it. I’m sorry for p-pushing you away. Th-thank you for trying to h-help me, but I th-think that it’ll t-take a little while until th-things are okay enough for th-that again. I don’t want K-Kenny or Butters or Jimmy or a-anyone else right now. I w-want to be able to hang out with _you_ again and for e-everything to finally b-be okay.”

The words tumbled out of his mouth, tripping over each other and hardly making any sense to himself. He felt a rising heat in his cheeks, probably making himself look even more pathetic than he already did. He was a train wreck. He was confusing himself, meaning that Craig must be feeling completely lost. He wanted him there, but didn’t want the other boy to comfort him or touch him? He wanted to be normal, yet he was having a miniature freak out? He wanted to hang out, yet he was ruining everything by being a dumbass?

Craig inhaled slowly. After a few moments of silence, Tweek slowly peeked open one eye. He saw the other teen… Smiling? Tweek sat up straighter, opening both eyes and staring at the boy in shock. Why wasn’t he upset? Why didn’t he look mad or confused?

Craig caught his eye and his smile widened. “You said you wanted to hang out with me. And that you didn’t want anyone else right now.” Tweek blushed and nodded, not sure where to continue the conversation. Craig completely turned around, leaning his side back against the wall and curling his right leg under his left. “You said you want to go back to normal. With me.”

Tweek nodded again, slower than before. Where was Craig getting at?

“That’s all I want, Tweek. To go back to normal. How things were. I’ll do anything for that. Even if it means going slow. I’m sorry about the hug. I should have asked. Do you forgive me? Because you just said you didn’t want me to go…” Craig’s voice trailed off, though the smile never left his face. The happiness beaming from the other boy was overwhelming, and Tweek couldn’t help but get slightly sucked into it himself. The blonde gave a small smile back and nodded.

“O-Of course I forgive you. Y-you shouldn’t a-apologize. Th-thank you for trying to h-help.” He mumbled, hoping that his cheeks were no longer red. The embarrassed heat hadn’t left his body yet, but his face didn’t feel nearly as hot as before. The tears that once blurred his vision had been blinked away, allowing the teen to not worry as much about shedding a tear. Tweek glanced over his shoulder at the nightstand, looking at the clock. 2:23 am. Still about five more hours until he had to get ready for school. He turned back to face the other teen. Shocking himself, he asked, “D-do you want to pl-play some g-games?”

Craig raised his eyebrow, pleasantly surprised. “Of fucking course I do. But, do _you_ want to?”

Tweek nodded, pushing himself off of the bed. Craig followed suit. As they both stood, bed in between them, Tweek suddenly noticed how tired Craig looked. If he went home now, he might be able to get a couple hours of sleep still. Suddenly, he thought twice about the offer. “W-well, a-actually… Do you w-want to go home and r-rest?”

Craig gave a small chuckle and shook his head, cocking it to the side and looking at Tweek with amusement. “Do you really think I’ll be able to sleep tonight? I’ll answer that for you: no. Trust me, Ducky, I’m not going to be able to do anything other than lie in my bed and think. I’d rather be here and distracted, if that’s alright.” Ducky. Craig had used his nickname once more, causing a surge of happiness to rush over him. Tweek smiled and gave a small shrug, trying to play it off though on the inside his heart was hammering in his chest.

He and Craig were going to stay up all night talking and playing video games. He was both nervous and excited about that. “I-It’s downstairs, in th-the living room. Th-the xbox, th-that is.” Craig nodded and made his way around the bed, heading toward the door. “Do you want to lead the way, or should I? It’s your house, after all.”

Tweek chuckled himself and shook his head. “I-if you remembered wh-where my room was, you can r-remember where the living r-room is.” Craig laughed and continued, making his way out the door and down the steps. Tweek breathed a sigh of relief and looked around his room, noting the eerie stillness now that the other boy was gone. He was glad that he decided to let Craig come over.

“You coming?” Craig shouted from downstairs.

Tweek nodded and smiled, though he knew the other boy couldn’t see. He made his way toward the door and down the stairs, peering over the railing to see Craig sitting down on the couch. The teen looked up at him and shook his head. “I have no idea how your TV works, and I’m not even going to try. I’d rather not break anything, assuming that’s okay with you.” The blonde gave a small laugh, walking toward the television and turning on the controllers. He handed one behind him toward Craig, messing with the buttons on the system and wincing at the sudden bright light that filled the room.

Turning around, he walked toward the couch and took a seat next to the other boy, a couple inches away to allow himself enough breathing room.

“Wh-what do you want to p-play?” He asked, thinking of the multiplayer games that his family owned. His parents never played, and yet they insisted on keeping the Xbox in the living room. His friends hardly went to his house, unless his parents were home, and they usually hung out in his room rather than downstairs. Tweek hoped that there would be at least one game that Craig enjoyed.

“Well, I see Black Ops. Want to give that a go?” He asked, looking back at the blonde expectantly. He seemed to want to please Tweek just as much as Tweek wanted to please him. The younger boy nodded and reached for the game, placing it in and turning down the volume a bit. His dad always had it on the highest setting.

“Alright, now I need to warn you; I’m a pro at this. So I _just_ might kick your ass.” Craig said teasingly, a playful smirk plastered on his face. Tweek smiled back and shook his head, clicking buttons until the loading screen appeared. Once on the screen, Tweek made it a point to highlight his player’s level. “A-and I need to w-warn you, Craig. I-I’m highest p-prestige.”

Craig whistled loudly and grinned, putting his controller down for a second. “Fine, then I won’t go easy on you like I was going to.” Tweek gave a large smile back and turned toward the screen, starting a match. “Th-that’s fine with me. I m-might have to go easy on you.”

As the match began, Tweek curled his legs into his lap to get into his usual gaming position.

_3… 2… 1…_

Within seconds, Tweek had already killed two opponents and was working on this third, while Craig hardly had one.

“Fuck, you weren’t kidding. That’s fine. Just means we can stay up all night until I beat you.” Craig laughed, mashing the buttons on his controller and quietly cursing every time he died. Tweek giggled and leaned forward, ready to make the matches last all night.

“I-I’m up for th-that.” He said, practically grinning.

Glancing at the top of the screen, he saw the time. 2:47 am.

Less than five more hours until he needed to get ready for school. Then they would have to part ways and go to class, probably not seeing each other for the rest of the day. Or who knows how long. Tweek shook off the thoughts and focused on the game, enjoying the laughter coming from his companion. He wasn’t going to let himself focus on anything else than the moment.

He earned another kill, causing Craig to shout half-heartedly at him. “Damn it! I wanted to show off how good I was!”

Tweek smiled. “Y-you still have f-four hours to do th-that.”

Craig nodded beside him. “And I’ll use all of that time to prove it.” With that, the other teen earned a kill. “Ha!” Craig chuckled, throwing up a middle finger at the blonde. Tweek rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help grinning.

He was looking forward to the next couple of hours.


End file.
